THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


m 

m  •    '.•••-'•:-•  M 


MUSINGS. 


MUSINGS 


OF 


A  BLIND  AND  PARTIALLY  DEAF  GIRL. 


BY 

MARY   ANN    MOORE. 


PHILA  DELPH I A  : 

J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT    &    CO. 

1873- 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1872,  by 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  &   CO., 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


LIPPINCOTT'S    PRESS, 
PHILADELPHIA. 


PS 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

The  Authoress's  Petition 9 

Childhood            ..'.......  10 

Consolation 12 

Try 13 

Secret  Sorrows 14 

Submission  and  Resignation         .         .         .         .         .         .  15 

"  The  Servant  is  not  above  his  Master,  nor  the  Disciple  above 

his  Lord" 17 

White  Clay  Creek 19 

For  what  do  I  Live  ? 21 

Who  is  thy  Friend? 22 

Equality 23 

Charity 25 

Day  by  Day 26 

Look  Above  ..........  28 

Forget  the  Past 29 

Industry  ..........3° 

Acrostic      ..........  32 

Perseverance  and  Patience 32 

The  Bible 33 

Lines  dedicated  to  the  Memory  of  J.  Meredith  35 

To  the  Desponding 37 

Company 39 

Trials 40 

Why  are  we  not  Happy?         .......  41 

Usefulness 42 

To  Ada 45 

Invocations         .........  47 

The  Bachelor 51 

*l  v 


626100 


vi  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

"And  let  us  not  be  weary  in  well-doing:  for  in  due  season  we 

shall  reap,  if  we  faint  not." — GAL.  vi.  9   .         .         .         .  52 

The  Past  and  the  Future 54 

The  Blind  Girl's  Lament 55 

Labor    ...........  56 

Innocence 57 

Home    ...........  58 

Death-Bed  Repentance       .           ......  60 

Lines  Addressed  to  my  Eldest  Brother  while  under  Affliction  61 

A  Resolution 64 

Employment 65 

Storms 67 

Acrostic ,  69 

Silence  .         .     •    ,         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .7° 

Maryland    .          .          .          .          .          ...         .         .          .  71 

Go  On  .         .         ...'••••         •         •         •  74 

Where  are  they  now  ? 75 

Kindness 77 

To  Addie,  on  her  Sixteenth  Birthday            ....  78 

Evil  Thoughts  are  Sin .         .  80 

Search  the  Scriptures           .         .         .         .         .         .         .  81 

Row  your  own  Canoe     ........  82 

Bereavement  and  Consolation 84 

Marriage         ..........  87 

Dependency        .         .         .'' 89 

The  Russet  Room  .                   90 

Rainy  Days         .  •      .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .  91 

The  Merry  Man -93 

Life     .        .         .         .        ..-.."..        .  95 

Hope     . .       -  .  96 

Whereon  may  we  rely  ?.......  98 

Beautiful .         .  100 

Lines  on  the  Death  of  S.  L.  Moore     .        .        .        .        .  102 

Let  me  see  him  once  More      .         .         .         .         .         .         .  104 

Thoughts  after  Attending  a  Religious  Meeting     .         .         .  105 

Be  Gentlemen  at  Home 106 

The  Sluggard 108 

Persevere        ..........  109 

"  Watch  and  Pray  lest  ye  enter  into  Temptation"         .         .  no 

God  is  Everywhere .112 


CONTENTS.  yii 

TAGS 

Waste  not  Moments 113 

Our  Two  Little  Boys 114 

Reflections  on  my  Forty-seventh  Birthday              .         .         .  116 

Evening  Reflections 119 

To  Addie,  on  her  Marriage          .         .         .         .         .         .  120 

On  Raising  the  National  Flag          .         .         .         .         .         .122 

Oh,  does  He  ever  think  of  Me  ? 124 

Blessings 126 

A  Dialogue         .        .        . 128 

The  Old  Year '    .,      \        .  131 

Sad  Reflections 133 

Be  Ye  also  Ready 134 

To  Katie 135 

Winter 138 

Consolatory  Musings 139 

Secret  Comfort        .........  141 

Never  Safe 142 


MUSINGS. 


THE   AUTHORESS'S    PETITION. 

ALAS  !  I  am  a  mournful  orphan  one, 
Without  a  home  or  private  means  whereon 
To  lean  secure  from  want  in  future  years, 
When  bound  by  age  or  by  misfortune's  tears. 
Affliction  too,  of  more  than  common  weight, 
Hath  seized  my  form  and  rendered  dark  my  state, 
Brought  partial  silence  to  my  outward  ear, 
Placing  obstructions  in  my  pathway  here ; 
Yet  I  desire  to  bear  above  these  woes, 
And  look  to  Him  who  every  trial  knows; 
To  trust  His  love  to  make  a  way  for  me, 
Whereby  I  may  glide  safely  o'er  life's  sea. 
I  murmur  not  at  being  doomed  to  pass 
As  one  belonging  to  the  smaller  class ; 
I  murmur  not  at  work  of  hand  or  mind, 
While  struggling  on,  some  self-support  to  find. 
Toil  and  fatigue  are  lighter  far  to  bear 
Than  envied  favors  from  another's  share ; 
Need  to  depend  on  charity  is  pain 
To  those  who  over  plenty  once  did  reign. 
Then,  Lord,  since  Thou  beholdest  how  I  stand, 
A  guest  dependent  on  the  stranger's  hand ; 
Since  Thou  in  love  and  might  art  pleased  to  spare 
My  mental  powers  to  be  applied  with  care, 

(9) 


I0  CHILDHOOD. 

Be  Thou  my  friend,  and  help  me  to  pursue, 
With  motives  pure,  the  task  I  aim  in  view. 
Oh,  hear  my  prayer,  and,  if  it  be  Thy  will, 
Open  a  path  wherein  I  might  fulfill 
Something  that  would  improve  my  present  way 
And  brighten  prospects  of  a  future  day ; 
Incline  kind  hearts  to  largely  patronize 
The  work  of  one  who  toils  'neath  gloomy  skies; 
Grant  me  success,  that  I  in  time  may  gain 
Sufficient  means  myself  to  well  maintain. 
Not  self  alone,  the  worthy  stricken  poor 
Should  share  the  comforts  of  my  gathered  store  ; 
The  mournful  and  unfortunate  should  find 
In  me  a  friend  of  sympathetic  mind. 
I  covet  not  the  pomp  of  worldly  pride, 
Plenty  and  peace  are  more  than  aught  beside,  — 
Therefore,  of  little  I  could  freely  spare 
A  mite  at  times  to  soothe  affliction's  tear. 


CHILDHOOD. 

CHILDHOOD  !  how  oft  a  thought  of  thee 
Casts  weight  upon  my  brow ! 

I  would  I  could  forget  thy  charms, 
So  changed  my  fortune  now. 

I  can  but  view  with  starting  tears 

This  altered  life  of  mine, 
While  clouds  obscure  my  riper  years, 

Which  never  darkened  thine. 


CHILDHOOD. 

Thy  cheerful  paths  were  mostly  strewn 
With  pleasure's  brilliant  flowers ; 

My  little  sorrows  vanished  soon, 
Like  childhood's  transient  hours. 

I  feared  no  future  woes  or  care, 

I  roved  a  girlish  thing, 
And  little  thought  gloom  and  despair 

Would  thus  around  me  cling. 

I  little  thought,  when  sporting  gay 
With  friends  of  early  years, 

Their  friendship  would  so  soon  decay 
If  smiles  were  turned  to  tears. 

But  as  maturer  years  drew  on 

I  many  lessons  met, 
Before  my  sixteenth  year  had  flown 

My  stars  in  darkness  set. 

My  youthful  mind  was  forced  to  bow 

Beneath  affliction's  spell, 
And  heaviness  stole  o'er  my  brow, 

My  heart's  deep  woe  to  tell. 

The  friends  of  childhood's  happy  hour 

One  after  one  withdrew, 
I  learned  by  stern  affliction's  power 

That  friends  indeed  are  few. 

The  change  is  great,  its  trial  doth 

My  wounded  spirit  bow  ; 
Oh,  memory,  cease  this  melody, 

I  cannot  bear  it  now  ! 


12  CONSOLATION. 


CONSOLATION. 

THERE  is  a  star,  a  brilliant  star, 
Which  lights  our  mental  eye, 

And  sheds  a  peaceful  radiance  o'er 
Our  pathway  to  the  sky: 

That  star  is  revelation's  light 

To  guide  the  pilgrim's  steps  aright. 

There  is  a  joy,  a  tranquil  joy, 
That  smooths  the  mourner's  way, 

'Tis  resignation's  power  to  yield 
Strength  equal  to  our  day, 

Though  rainbow  hues  and  sunset  rays 

Be  hid  forever  from  our  gaze. 

There  is  a  voice  amidst  the  gloom 

Of  tumult  here  below, 
That  whispers  peace  beyond  the  tomb, 

Exempt  from  care  or  woe  : 
That  voice  is  all-relying  faith 
In  Him  who  for  us  suffered  death. 

There  is  a  hope,  a  cheering  hope, 

More  precious  to  the  soul 
Than  all  the  pleasures  we  receive 

From  worldly  fame  or  gold  : 
The  choicest  gem  to  mortals  given 
Is  hope  of  entrance  into  heaven. 


TRY. 


TRY. 

IF  you  desire  to  win  a  prize, 

Despair  not  ere  you  try ; 
Perhaps  within  your  power  it  lies, 

Let  not  a  chance  pass  by. 

Would  you  attain  to  ready  skill 
In  aught  for  which  you  sigh, 

Your  hopes  will  not  be  crowned  until 
With  energy  you  try. 

The  depths  of  science  and  of  art 

Would  yet  in  darkness  lie, 
Had  not  some  ingenious  heart 

Wisely  resolved  to  try, 

In  every  place,  in  every  change, 
That  gilds  or  shades  your  sky, 

There's  always  something  that  requires 
Your  willingness  to  try. 

You'll  find  when  error's  clouds  of  gloom 

Or  weakness  hover  nigh, 
There  is  no  way  to  overcome 

Temptations  but  to  try. 

Misfortunes,  wrong,  or  pain,  may  oft 
Cause  tears  to  dim  your  eye ; 

Oh,  whisper,  while  you  look  aloft, 
These  woes  to  bear  I  *  II  try  * 


14  SECRET  SORROWS. 

Press  through  your  cares,  and  bear  in  mind, 

Until  the  day  you  die, 
No  great  attainments  are  secured 

Unless  you  nobly  try. 

Although  at  first  it  may  appear 

Your  efforts  are  in  vain, 
Be  not  dismayed  at  having  failed, 

Be  firm,  and  try  again. 


SECRET   SORROWS. 

How  often  we  gaze  on  a  smiling  face 

And  think  it  an  emblem  of  inward  peace  ! 

How  oft  we  imagine  happiness  lies 

In  glittering  mansions  of  gorgeous  size  ! 

Alas  !  how  mistaken  to  thus  suppose 

Externals  doth  the  inward  truth  disclose  ! 

How  far  from  plain  reality  the  sight 

That  gilds  life's  fairy  picture  dazzling  bright ! 

How  far  from  human  nature's  power  to  scan 

The  secret  struggles  of  a  brother  man  ! 

None  know  the  trials  others  have  to  bear, 

None  feel  the  weight  of  one  another's  share. 

Too  oft  we  see  lips  smile  upon  a  throng, 

While  the  heart  aches  under  some  secret  wrong ! 

Too  oft  'midst  wealth  or  splendor's  grand  display 

The  tyrant's  mandate  fond  ones  must  obey; 

Too  oft  injured  spirits  unheeded  sigh 

At  lost  affection's  cold,  averted  eye. 

Their  woes  unknown  unto  the  world  at  large, 

They  live  tinpitied  'neath  their  hidden  charge; 


SUBMISSION  AND  RESIGNA  TION. 

Whose  painful  weight  is  canker  to  the  mind, 
More  painful  too  the  closer  'tis  confined. 
Ah,  many  are  the  hearts  that  silent  bleed  ! 
Ah,  many  are  the  tear-drops  vainly  shed 
In  paths  appearing  to  the  world  as  all 
For  which  the  soul  could  yearn  or  fancy  call ! 
Yet  bright  as  those  paths  to  the  careless  seem, 
They're  oft  devoid  of  life's  most  soothing  beam, 
Forbearance,  kindness,  sympathy,  and  love, 
A  needed  solace  while  we  onward  move. 
God  is  the  only  one  who  knows  the  real 
Extent  of  trials  each  one  has  to  feel ; 
His  watchful  eye  beholds  the  inmost  truth, 
Attending  feeble  age,  or  trusting  youth ; 
He  is  the  friend  to  whom  we  may  draw  near 
And  safely  breathe  the  secret  of  each  tear. 


SUBMISSION   AND   RESIGNATION. 

EVERY  rational  being  of  mature  years  is  doomed  to 
experience  a  variety  of  trials  while  journeying  through 
life.  It  matters  not  of  what  character  our  trials  are,  any 
or  all  of  them  are  afflictive  to  our  natural  dispositions, 
and  tend  to  make  our  earthly  path  appear  gloomy,  rough, 
and  difficult.  Although  many  wise  and  good  persons 
have  been  enabled  with  Divine  assistance  to  declare  trials 
are  blessings  in  disguise,  the  greater  portion  of  the  human 
family  find,  when  forced  to  labor  under  annoying  circum 
stances,  it  is  easier  to  preach  than  to  practice  this  doc 
trine,  and  show  by  their  actions  they  are  far  from  being 


!6  SUBMISSION  AND  RESIGNATION. 

resigned  to  our  situation.  While  we  are  permitted  to 
glide  undisturbed  upon  the  smooth  surface  of  health  and 
prosperity,  we  can  unhesitatingly  recommend  submission 
and  resignation  to  others,  whose  barks  have  been  seriously 
obstructed  on  their  course  by  adverse  gales  of  affliction  or 
misfortune ;  but  when  our  own  frail  barks  become  simi 
larly  situated,  surrounding  gales  appear  doubly  appalling 
to  us,  and  wounded  nature  reluctantly  surrenders  to  their 
powers.  From  what  does  this  reluctance  proceed,  if  not 
from  a  want  of  resignation  to  our  fate  ?  I  would  also  ask 
why  it  is  so  difficult  for  us  to  become  resigned  to  afflictive 
dispensations.  Methinks  it  is  chiefly  because  human  na 
ture  is  a  most  singular  compound  of  strength  and  weak 
ness,  each  propensity  operating  against  the  other,  as  is 
plainly  represented  on  one  hand  by  our  clinging  so  firmly 
to  the  endearing  joys  of  life  that  our  strong  wills  can 
hardly  be  brought  to  submit  to  a  separation  therefrom, 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  by  our  being  so  irresolute  and 
distressed  amidst  crosses  which  we  are  fully  sensible  are 
required  of  us  to  bear,  and  our  contrited  spirits  sincerely 
desirous  of  submitting  thereto.  Many,  when  overtaken 
by  trials  of  an  irreparable  cast,  endeavor  to-  relieve  the 
weight  thereof  by  engaging  in  some  absorbing  employ 
ment  calculated  to  divert  their  feelings  from  an  inclina 
tion  to  grief  and  despondency.  Such  a  course  is  highly 
commendable,  although  the  result  cannot  be  regarded  as 
resignation,  but  a  mere  momentary  escape  from  the  pain 
of  dark  realities,  allowing  the  wearied  mind  to  rest  and 
gather  strength  from  happy  forgetfulness.  Submission  is 
the  first  and  most  sure  step  towards  resignation.  By  that 
step  we  can  with  a  degree  of  comfort  accommodate  our 
selves  to  various  unaccustomed  situations  which  attending 
circumstances  seem  to  require,  while  the  existence  of  an 
unyielding  spirit  naturally  produces  discontent  under 


THE  SERVANT  NOT  ABOVE  HIS  MASTER.        17 

every  unfavorable  change  to  which  we  are  subjected. 
Grieving  over  events  which  cannot  be  amended  only 
serves  to  keep  mental  wounds  constantly  bleeding,  and 
debilitate  our  already  oppressed  spirits;  consequently  it 
is  philosophical  wisdom  as  well  as  our  duty  to  endeavor 
to  reconcile  ourselves  to  our  situations,  whether  we  have 
been  providentially  or  accidentally  placed  therein.  When 
favored  with  occasional  seasons  of  calmness,  we  gain  an 
experimental  knowledge  of  submission  being  conducive  to 
resignation,  endurance,  and  contentment ;  but,  alas !  we  are 
also  led  to  know  submission  is  not  always  at  our  command, 
the  strong  yearnings  of  our  nature  to  retain  wanton  powers 
or  pleasures  frequently  rise  so  forcibly  in  our  minds  that  our 
better  resolutions  are  almost  counteracted  thereby,  render 
ing  the  attainment  of  a  resigned  state  a  laborious  task, — a 
task  accomplished  only  by  a  close  spiritual  warfare  under 
the  government  of  the  cross,  and  requiring  continual 
watchfulness  against  the  ascendency  of  a  mournful,  re 
pining  disposition. 


"THE  SERVANT  IS  NOT  ABOVE  HIS 
MASTER,  NOR  THE  DISCIPLE  ABOVE 
HIS  LORD." 

OH,  weary  pilgrim,  should  thy  faith  depart, 
And  thou  feel  comfortless  'midst  trials  drear, 

Thy  Saviour's  language  may  some  joy  impart, 
To  smooth  the  roughness  of  thy  pathway  here. 

Should  stern  affliction  seize  thy  mortal  frame, 
Torture  thy  flesh,  debilitate  thy  mind, 

Oh,  think  of  Him  who  on  the  cross  did  hang, 
To  all  the  agonies  of  death  resigned. 


1 8        THE   SERVANT  NOT  ABOVE  HIS  MASTER. 

Shouldst  thou  e'er  need  a  friend  to  plead  thy  cause 
When  dark  misfortune's  cloud  o'ercasts  thy  sky, 

When  they  who  once  were  true,  betray,  withdraw, 
Remember  Him  whom  Peter  did  deny. 

Should  pride  deride,  or  malice  seek  to  tire, 
There  is  a  comfort  e'en  for  such  as  thee — 

The  knowledge  of  thy  Saviour  having  felt 
The  self-same  trials,  when  in  flesh,  as  we. 

Then  why  repine  or  seek  to  'scape  thy  woes  ? 

The  servant  hath  no  more  required  of  him 
Than  our  great  Master  bore,  and  knows  we  need, 

To  wean  us  from  our  innate  love  of  sin. 

Couldst  thou  ascend  to  realms  of  joy  and  peace 
By  mossy  paths  of  health,  delight,  or  ease, 

Our  Saviour's  sufferings  to  redeem  our  race 
Would  be  forgotten  "mid  such  scenes  as  these. 

So  be  content  to  suffer  wrong  or  pain, 

To  tread  the  thorny  road  thy  Master  trod, 

Nor  think  eternal  bliss  or  life  to  gain 

By  smoother  paths  than  was  allowed  thy  God. 


WHITE    CLAY  CREEK. 


WHITE    CLAY    CREEK. 

THOUGH  'midst  the  scenes  of  distant  wilds 

Decreed  by  fate  to  roam, 
This  faithful  heart  cannot  forget 

Thy  charms,  my  native  home ! 
It  still  turns  to  thy  peaceful  haunts, 

And  oft  recalls  the  day 
I  sported  on  the  banks  which  skirt 

Thy  waters,  sweet  White  Clay. 

Thou  art  a  stream  of  length  and  might, 

Whose  name  is  dear  to  me, 
Bound  by  a  thousand  native  ties 

This  heart  still  clings  to  thee. 
My  grandsire  settled  on  thy  soil 

While  Britain  held  her  sway, 
And  through  two  bloody  wars  he  kept 

His  lands  on  thee,  White  Clay. 

Thy  borders  gave  my  father  birth, 

He  won  a  damsel  fair, 
And  by  his  childhood's  home  he  placed 

His  humble  dwelling  near. 
Through  all  the  ills  that  filled  his  lot 

He  rarely  thought  to  stray, 
But  onward  struggled  to  improve 

His  grounds  on  rich  White  Clay. 


20  WHITE  CLAY  CREEK. 

'Twas  in  that  cot  among  thy  hills 

I  first  drew  mortal  breath ; 
'TwasAhere  two  infant  brothers  sank 

In  the  cold  arms  of  death ; 
'Twas  there  we  children  all  found  birth ; 

But  ere  our  childhood's  day 
Had  fled,  our  father  chose  a  home 

Some  farther  down  White  Clay. 

Though  changed  our  home,  thy  waters  rolled 

With  wonted  music  sweet, 
Thy  hills  with  waving  verdure  bloomed 

Around  our  new  retreat ; 
Thy  valleys  there  with  beauty  smile, 

The  zephyrs  gently  play 
Among  the  groves  and  woodland  bowers 

Which  shade  thy  course,  White  Clay. 

Amidst  those  scenes  of  wild  delight, 

Where  nature's  richest  dyes 
Are  nurtured  by  the  fertile  soil 

Thy  wayward  stream  supplies, 
The  transient  hours  of  thoughtless  youth, 

Alternate  grave  and  gay, 
I  passed,  with  friends  whose  homes  were  cast 

Near  mine,  on  thee,  White  Clay. 

Though  changes  mark  the  flight  of  time, 

And  youth's  bright  dreams  are  past, 
These  feelings  warm  through  every  clime, 

Through  every  change,  shall  last. 
Remembrance  oft  will  gild  those  hours, 

Though  I  be  far  away, 
I'll  ne'er  forget  the  beauty  of 

Thy  borders,  grand  White  Clay. 


FOR    WHAT  DO   I  LIVE?  -        2I 


FOR  WHAT   DO   I    LIVE? 

I  LIVE  not  to  covet  the  honor  of  fame, 

'Tis  an  empty  bubble,  a  mere  sounding  name; 

I  live  not  to  bask  in  the  sunshine  of  ease, 

Nor  drink  the  bright  waters  of  joy's  smiling  seas. 

The  beauties  of  nature  are  hid  from  my  gaze, 
The  tints  of  the  rainbow  or  sunset's  mild  rays 
Have  no  charm  for  me,  though  their  beautiful  stain 
Reflects  on  the  hill-top  again  and  again. 

From  spring-time  to  autumn  in  brilliant  array 
Sweet  flowers  proudly  wave  by  the  side  of  my  way, 
While  numberless  stars  in  the  clear  azure  sky 
Seem  to  mock  with  their  beams  the  gloom  of  my  eye. 

The  bright-feathered  songsters,  whose  melodies  swell 
With  summer's  soft  breezes  through  forest  and  dell, 
Revisit  our  clime,  do  their  work  and  depart, 
Without  stirring  with  bliss  one  chord  in  my  heart. 

But  a  region  there  is  where  flowers  never  die, 

Where  stars  meet  no  cloud  in  their  course  through  the  sky, 

Where  pure  streams  of  rapture  perpetually  roll, 

And  sounds  of  sweet  melody  gladden  the  soul. 

I  live  to  prepare  for  a  home  in  that  spot 
Where  trials  and  care  are  forever  forgot, 
Where  sin  and  temptation  shall  no  more  allure, 
Nor  dark  clouds  of  distrust  the  spirit  obscure. 


22  WHO  IS  THY  FRIEND? 

I  live  to  be  taught  by  life's  lessons  of  woe, 
How  vague  and  uncertain  our  schemes  here  below, 
How  transient  the  joys  which  attach  us  to  earth, 
And  how  slowly  we  toil  for  treasures  of  worth. 

I  live  to  endeavor  some  comfort  to  spread 
In  the  pathway  of  those  who  near  me  shall  tread ; 
Sweet  sympathy's  solace  may  lighten  the  load 
Allotted  to  beings  to  bear  on  life's  road. 

I  live  to  endure  until  God's  chosen  time 
Shall  call  me  from  earth  to  a  happier  clime, 
To  join  in  the  songs  of  the  ransomed  above, 
Surrounding  the  presence  of  Him  who  is  love. 


WHO    IS   THY   FRIEND? 

WHO  is  thy  friend  ?  Not  he  who  smiles 
When  pleasure's  cup  is  running  o'er ; 

Not  he  who  firmly  grasps  thy  hand 
When  welcomed  to  thy  splendid  door. 

Who  is  thy  friend  ?  Not  he  who  speaks 
On  thy  behalf  when  fortune  reigns, 

Or  in  thy  presence  approbates 

That  which  in  absence  he  disdains. 

Who  is  thy  friend  ?  Dost  thou  not  feel 
It  is  not  he  who  seeks  to  place 

His  sport  and  ridicule  on  thee, 
By  flattering  praises  to  thy  face  ? 


EQUALITY.  23 

Who  is  thy  friend  ?  Not  he  the  proud, 
Who  covets  honor,  pomp,  or  fame ; 

He'll  greet  thee  in  an  humble  crowd, 
In  grander  places  shun  thy  name. 

Who  is  thy  friend?  'Tis  he  who  stands 
Unchanged  midst  scenes  of  sun  or  shade, 

Who  lingers  near  with  ready  hands 
When  trials  are  upon  thee  laid. 

Who  is  thy  friend  ?  'Tis  he  who  strives, 

In  kind  compassion,  to  improve 
An  erring  habit  thou  hast  not 

Seen  necessary  to  remove. 

Who  is  thy  friend  ?  The  Lord  above, 

Who  sees  and  pities  all  thy  fears, 
Who  grants  thee  meekness,  patience,  love, 

He  is  thy  friend  in  joy  and  tears. 


EQUALITY. 

TELL  me,  vain  man,  why  thou  dost  scorn 

Thy  neighbor's  garb,  though  threadbare  worn, 

Why  thinkest  thou  his  humble  home 

Too  small  to  tempt  thee  there  to  roam  ? 

Within  that  cot  true  peace  may  dwell, 

And  grateful  adoration  swell 

The  inmate's  heart,  who,  like  thy  own, 

Hath  access  to  the  Father's  throne. 

Thy  God  beholdeth  all  He  made, 

Regards  His  works  in  sun  or  shade ; 


24  EQUALITY. 

His  rain  descends,  His  warm  sunbeam 
Shines  on  the  rich  and  poor  the  same. 
That  cotter's  prayer  is  dear  as  thine 
To  Him  who  is  alone  Divine ; 
Thou  art  but  dust,  to  dust  again 
Thou  shalt  return  ;  then  why  disdain 
Thy  lowly  brother,  who  may  be 
Thy  better  in  eternity? 
Think  not  thy  pomp  or  pride  can  save 
Thy  soul  from  woe  beyond  the  grave  ; 
One  common  fate  awaits  us  all, 
One  final  end,  one  certain  call. 
None  can  escape  the  stern  command 
Proclaimed  by  Death  o'er  sea  and  land ; 
His  eye  is  watching  night  and  day, 
Ready  at  will  to  seize  his  prey. 
The  young,  the  old,  the  wise,  the  proud, 
Are  placed  among  his  gathered  crowd  ; 
With  him  distinction  hath  no  power, 
He  has  for  each  a  chosen  hour. 
One  head  must  as  the  other  lie, 
Low  in  his  icy  lap,  and  die. 
The  narrow  tomb  receives  us  all, 
Rank  as  we  may  with  great  or  small. 
There  side  by  side  do  friend  and  foe, 
The  rich  and  poor,  the  high  and  low, 
Together  share  the  self-same  lot, 
Nor  scorn  each  other's  resting-spot. 
Before  the  throne  all  must  appear, 
The  sentence  of  the  Lord  to  hear ; 
Like  death  He  acts  no  partial  part, 
But  judges  equal  every  heart. 


CHARITY. 


CHARITY. 

CHARITY  consists  not  merely  in  proffering  physical  or 
pecuniary  assistance  to  relieve  outward  necessities  existing 
among  the  poor  and  unfortunate,  but  also  requires  us  to 
cultivate  a  spirit  of  toleration  and  forbearance  toward 
those  whose  opinions  or  practices  may  differ  from  our 
own.  An  exercise  of  charitable  principles  not  only  pre 
vents  us  from  indulging  feelings  of  extreme  wrath  or  dis 
gust,  but  partially  qualifies  us  to  pity  or  at  least  make 
some  allowance  for  apparent  inconsistencies  surrounding 
us,  and  to  regard  them  as  frailties  common  to  human 
nature.  In  this  reasonable  disposition  real  or  ideal  error 
in  others  appears  to  us  of  moderate  magnitude,  and  a 
glimmering  sense  of  their  better  properties  breaks  in  upon 
our  recollection,  by  which  their  reputation  is  in  some 
degree  preserved  in  our  estimation,  although  a  powerful 
current  of  prejudice  and  reproach  be  urged  against  them 
by  an  excited  community.  All  persons  endowed  with 
ordinary  intellectual  powers  possess  some  noble  traits 
of  mind ;  therefore  all,  notwithstanding  their  numer 
ous  peculiarities  or  imperfections,  are  justly  entitled  to  a 
measure  of  sympathy  and  respect  from  their  fellow-beings. 
God,  according  to  His  wisdom  in  creating  us,  formed 
different  individuals  with  different  abilities,  virtues,  and 
infirmities,  which  at  once  accounts  for  our  so  generally 
differing  in  opinion,  inclination,  and  deportment  from 
one  another.  A  knowledge  of  this  truth  should  of  itself 
teach  us  charitable  feelings,  and  show  the  absurdity  of 
expecting  others  to  always  think  or  act  according  to  our 
views  when  our  natural  propensities  are  so  variously  con- 
B  3 


26  DAY  BY  DAY. 

/ 

stituted.     The  origin  of  error  may  in  most  instances  be 

traced  to  some  peculiar  weakness,  or  the  influence  of  im 
proper  surroundings,  and  we  plainly  expose  our  own 
weakness  when,  instead  of  manifesting  strength  of  virtue 
by  maintaining  a  meek,  enduring  spirit,  we  suffer  trifling 
annoyances  to  hastily  excite  us  to  immoderate  expressions 
of  disrespect  against  those  whose  actions  we  disapprove. 
A  want  of  charity  is  certainly  conducive  to  the  growth  of 
both  guilt  and  grief,  its  influence  being  calculated  to 
magnify  circumstances,  exaggerate  representations,  injure 
reputation,  produce  wrath,  create  enemies,  wound  inno 
cence,  and  too  frequently  cause  the  weak,  the  aged,  the 
afflicted,  the  poor,  and  the  backsliding,  although  not  en 
tirely  destitute  of  estimable  qualities,  to  fall  unfortunate 
victims  to  remorseless  censure  and  neglect,  which  adds 
double  weight  to  their  already  oppressive  burdens. 


DAY    BY    DAY. 

DAY  by  day  the  helpless  infant 
Gathers  strength  to  raise  his  head 

Day  by  day  across  his  features 
Brighter  rays  of  sense  are  shed. 

Day  by  day  he  makes  advances 
From  an  infant  to  a  man  ; 

Day  by  day  his  mind  matureth, 
The  broad  scene  of  life  to  scan. 

Day  by  day  he  plans  and  labors, 
Day  by  day  his  cares  increase ; 


DAY  BY  DAY,  27 

Day  by  day  new  schemes  and  passions 
Tempt  him  from  the  path  of  peace. 

Day  by  day  the  faded  landscape 

Regaineth  its  rich  garb  of  green  ; 
Day  by  day  the  fruitful  harvest 

Assumeth  its  perfected  scene. 

Day  by  day  homesteads  and  cities 

Rise,  and  change  from  new  to  old  ; 
Day  by  day  aspiring  students  * 

Long  hid  mysteries  unfold. 

Day  by  day  man  gaineth  knowledge, 

Day  by  day  grows  old  and  wise, — 
Wise  in  judgment,  old  in  habits, 

Old  in  wrecks  of  earthly  ties. 

Day  by  day  his  locks  grow  hoary, 

Day  by  day  his  eyes  grow  dim  ; 
Day  by  day  afflictions  gather, 

Stealing  wonted  strength  from  him. 

Day  by  day  the  humble  Christian 

Learns  to  meekly  bear  the  load 
God's  grace  hath  to  him  appointed, 

While  he  treads  life's  rugged  road. 

Day  by  day  the  time  allotted 

To  his  portion  rolls  away  ; 
Day  by  day  he  marches  nearer 

To  his  narrow  bed  of  clay. 


28  LOOK  ABOVE. 

Day  by  day  while  pressing  forward, 
Death  and  judgment  draweth  nigh ; 

Day  by  day  the  soul  approacheth 
Portals  of  eternity. 


LOOK   ABOVE. 

OH,  weary  mourner,  fainjt  not  on  the  road, 
But  nobly  struggle  forward  'neath  thy  load 
Of  care,  affliction,  injuries,  and  woe, 
The  soul's  allotted  portion  here  below, 
Where  human  nature  cannot  bask  in  ease, 
Nor  finv  smooth  waters  in  life's  changeful  seas ; 
Faint  not,  nor  doubt  the  safety  of  His  love, 
Who  thus  is  teaching  thee  to  look  above. 

Although  the  world  its  cruel  lures  employ 

To  steal  away  thy  higher  hope  and  joy  ; 

Though  friends  forsake,  and  foes  with  scornful  pride 

Thy  kind-intended  actions  oft  deride  ; 

Though  they  thy  views  of  conscience  rudely  spurn, 

And  seek  from  duty's  way  thy  feet  to  turn, 

Believe  the  Lord  knows  all ;  He'll  to  thee  prove 

A  friend,  enabling  thee  to  look  above. 

Wrath,  malice,  and  revenge  may  day  by  day 
Exert  their  power  to  chase  delights  away ; 
Sickness  and  stricken  joys  may  cause  a  sigh 
To  pain  thy  heart  or  tears  to  dim  thy  eye ; 
Want  and  dependence  may  thy  portion  be, 
Shrouding  thy  mind  in  dark  despondency : 


FORGET  THE  PAST. 

Amidst  these  trials  look  above  in  prayer, 

And  ask  for  strength  to  'scape  the  tempter's  snare. 

Yes,  cheerless  mourner,  look  above  for  aid 
To  bear  the  weight  that  is  upon  thee  laid ; 
'Tis  there  alone  thou'lt  find  the  helpful  power 
That  can  sustain  in  trial's  gloomy  hour. 
God  sees  thy  woes,  His  grace  is  able  too 
To  bear  thee  up  until  thy  journey's  through ; 
Trust  in  His  might,  His  wisdom,  and  His  love, 
Thy  faith  will  be  renewed  to  look  above. 


29 


FORGET   THE   PAST. 

THE  past  is  gone ;  soul,  let  it  go, 

And  bear  its  burdens  with  it ; 
The  present  yields  sufficient  woe 

To  deeply  wound  the  spirit. 

Ne'er  ponder  over  former  ill, 

Which  cannot  be  amended, 
But  rather  seek  thy  task  to  fill 

In  what  thou  art  attended. 

The  present  shows  enough  to  do, 
Wouldst  thou  but  strive  to  do  it, 

Without  holding  the  past  in  view, 
Or  weights  Belonging  to  it. 

Those  weights  oppressed  when  they  occurred, 
And  painful  seem  as  ever, 
3* 


INDUSTRY. 

When  they  are  in  memory  stirred, 
Or  borne  adown  time's  river. 

Why  shouldst  thou  indiscreetly  bind 

Upon  thy  heart  a  feeling 
Of  gloom  which  should  be  left  behind, 

Thy  present  comforts  stealing? 

'Tis  folly  to  obscure  thy  life 
By  bearing  burdens  double  ; 

Therefore  let  former  care  or  strife 
Thy  mind  no  longer  trouble. 

The  past  is  gone  ;  yea,  let  it  go, 

And  waft  its  trials  with  it ; 
The  shadows  of  the  present  throw 

Enough  upon  the  spirit. 


INDUSTRY. 

THERE  are  deep  lessons  of  nature's  teaching 

E'en  in  the  tiny  insects'  sphere; 
Busy  ants  and  laden  bees  are  preaching 

Man  should  for  future  want  prepare. 

Summer  beams  with  plenteous  hoards  at  present, 
And  earth  displays  a  scene  of  joy ; 

But  in  the  dim  distance  winter  lurketh, 
Life's  outward  comforts  to  destroy. 

Instinctive  insects  foresee  this  danger 
Approaching  them  with  stealthy  flight, 


INDUSTRY. 

And  labor  every  favored  moment 
To  gather  stores  for  winter's  night ; 

That  they  a  resource  may  have  when  trials, 

Impending  o'er  their  future  fate, 
Shall  rudely  descend  in  swift  succession 

Upon  them  with  oppressive  weight. 

Human  life  hath  also  wintry  seasons 
Of  age,  misfortune,  pain,  and  care, 

Which  in  turn  obscure  our  earthly  pathway, 
Producing  shadows  of  despair. 

Do  we,  like  insects,  wisely  endeavor 
In  youth's  summer  hours  to  provide 

For  the  winter  of  age  and  dependence, 
Wherein  active  toil  must  subside  ? 

Do  we  labor  for  mental  improvement 
Ere  talents  or  strength  are  impaired, 

That  grim  messengers,  bearing  afflictions, 
Shall  find  us  for  trials  prepared? 

Yon  spirit,  who  is  striving  to  profit 

By  lessons  allotted  to  him, 
Will  be  strengthened  to  bear  life's  dark  seasons, 

However  intense  they  may  seem. 

Thus  by  striving  to  follow  the  pointings 

Of  wisdom  in  patience  and  faith, 
We  in  health's  pleasant  summer  may  gather 

Treasures  for  the  winter  of  death. 


32        ACROSTIC.— PERSEVERANCE  AND  PATIENCE. 


ACROSTIC. 

JEALOUSY  is  a  baneful  root, 
Ever  producing  evil  fruit, 
Alarming  spirits  without  cause, 
Laying  basis  of  brawling  noise  ; 
Offensive  acts  to^quick  perceive, 
Urging  the  mind  them  to  believe, 
Suspecting  intents  never  meant, 
Yielding  false-founded  discontent. 


PERSEVERANCE  AND  PATIENCE. 

PERSEVERANCE  and  Patience  surely  do  aid 
The  willing  to  struggle  through  cares  undismayed; 
They  lighten  affliction,  surmount  present  ill, 
Disperse  threatening  danger,  great  wonders  fulfill. 
Their  calm  prevalence  is  conducive  to  health, 
Their  combined  exercise  accumulates  wealth ; 
They  lead  to  the  fountain  of  mystery's  stream, 
They  penetrate  depths  hid  in  science's  theme ; 
They  discover,  invent,  acquire,  and  sustain, 
Without  them  ignorance,  want,  weakness  would  reign  ; 
They're  needful  companions  on  time's  varied  path, 
They're  the  beautiful  offspring  of  hope  and  of  faith  ; 
They  wrestle,  they  trust,  they  relieve,  they  endure, 
The  future  improve,  though  the  present's  obscure ; 


THE  BIBLE. 

They  waft  mortals  above  despondency's  wave, 
The  spirit  from  fruitless  bewailing  they  save. 
Doubt  not,  honest  reader,  the  truth  of  my  rhyme, 
Weigh  well  its  maxims  in  the  rough  scale  of  time , 
Though  thy  pathway  be  drear,  and  heavy  the  weight 
Of  changes  and  trials  attending  thy  fate, 
Thou' It  find  perseverance  and  patience  make  strong 
To  press  through  all  duties  which  to  earth  belong. 


33 


THE    BIBLE. 

PILGRIM,  what  are  thy  trials  that  thou  goest  mourning 
on  thy  way  ?  Have  friends  betrayed  thy  love  and  con 
fidence,  enemies  wronged  thee  with  slander,  malice,  and 
scorn,  afflictions  tortured  and  debilitated  thy  frame,  be 
reavements  stricken  thy  wonted  joys,  Poverty  placed  her 
restricting  hand  upon  thee,  or  temptations  and  weakness 
lured  thee  far  from  paths  of  wisdom  and  peace,  shrouding 
thy  once  joyous  spirit  in  the  dark  mantle  of  fear  and 
remorse  ? 

Should  any  or  all  of  these  be  thy  unhappy  portion, 
repine  not ;  but  gratefully  remember  there  is  one  unfail 
ing  source  of  strength  and  consolation  remaining  within 
thy  power  to  approach. 

This  accessible  source  of  necessary  comfort,  so  wisely, 
provided  for  every  rational  being,  is  simply  the  Bible, 
represented  as  the  word  of  God,  revealed  to  holy  men 
of  old,  whom  He  blessed  with  an  understanding  of  His 
marvelous  power,  and  is  the  only  reliable  outward  means 
whereby  we  can  become  rightly  acquainted  with  the  Divine 
'character  and  plan  of  salvation.  The  pages  of  this  sacred 


34 


THE  BIBLE. 


volume  are  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  fraught  with 
Divine  commands,  needful  cautions,  instructive  compari 
sons,  miraculous  examples,  and  tender  promises  of  wisdom, 
mercy,  and  power  adapted  to  every  condition  wherein 
erring  finite  man  is  liable  to  be  placed.  Although  a  great 
portion  of  the  Bible  appears  sealed  to  thy  understanding, 
if  thou  truly  believest  and  endeavorest  to  live  according 
to  the  precepts  contained  therein,  He  who  in  infinite 
wisdom  inspired  the  holy  men  of  old  to  write  it  for  the 
edification  of  all  mankind  will  at  seasons  inspire  thee  to 
comprehend  its  mysteries  and  realize  the  importance 
thereof.  Never  wilt  thou  be  better  prepared  to  enjoy  this 
precious  privilege  than  in  hours  of  distress,  when  every 
hope  and  prop  upon  which  thou  didst  depend  appears  to 
be  removed,  and  the  beauties  of  this  world  tarnished  in 
thy  sight.  Then  and  then  alone  wilt  thou  be  fully  sensi 
ble  of  thy  own  nothingness  and  need  of  Divine  aid,  to 
preserve  thee  in  patience  under  various  trials  that  attend 
thy  tribulated  journey  through  life  ;  then  it  is  thy  proud, 
creaturely  nature  is  entirely  subdued,  and  a  sincere  will 
ingness  wrought  in  thee  to  seek  counsel  from  Him  who 
thou  feelest  is  alone  able  to  minister  to  thy  exact  situation. 
When  self  is  truly  abased,  a  seeking,  prayerful,  dependent 
spirit  is  experienced,  which  naturally  prepares  the  mind  to 
availingly  commune  with  the  Lord  through  the  mysterious 
medium  of  the  Bible.  In  this  submissive  frame  of  mind 
thou  canst  in  faith  listen  to  the  silent  teachings  of  His 
grace  as  He  is  pleased  to  offer  them,  by  presenting  to  thy 
recollection  line  after  line  of  His  own  scriptural  language, 
whose  mysteries  thy  trial-taught  understanding  can  ap 
preciate  and  apply  to  thy  own  particular  state.  Thus 
thou  mayest  under  circumstances  of  every  character  find 
in  the  Bible  a  refuge  filled  with  the  refreshing  waters  of 
instruction,  preservation,  encouragement,  and  consola- 


TO    THE  MEMORY  OF  J.  MEREDITH.  35 

tion,  wherein  thou  canst  secretly  bathe  thy  wearied  soul 
independent  of  human  aid  or  restriction. 

WITHIN  that  book  of  holy  writ 

Kind  promises  are  given, 
To  cheer  the  weary  pilgrim  on 

His  rugged  course  to  heaven. 

There's  not  a  mind,  howe'er  so  tried 

With  pain  or  sin  or  sadness, 
Who  may  not  in  the  Bible  find 

A  source  of  strength  and  gladness. 

To  all  that's  tried  with  dark  dismay 

Those  promises  were  given ; 
Then  nobly  struggle  on  thy  way, 

There's  rest  for  thee  in  heaven. 


LINES 

DEDICATED    TO   THE    MEMORY   OF   J.    MEREDITH. 

WHEN  last  I  grasped  thy  feeble  hand  and  heard  thy  fond 

farewell, 
Hope  whispered  we  might  meet  again  ere  death  would 

sound  his  knell 
To  summon  thee  from  us,  who  loved  thy  presence  here  so 

well. 

We  left,  and  I  with  sad  regret  my  future  prospect  viewed, 
For  even  then  stern  fate  decreed  that  change  and  distance 

would 
Ere  long  prevent  our  meeting  oft  as  I  desired  we  should. 


3 6  TO    THE  MEMORY  OF  J.  MEREDITH. 

Oft  since  that  day  vain  hope  hath  told  of  pleasures  rich 

in  store 

For  me,  when  I  in  future  years  might  mingle  as  of  yore 
With  thee  and  others  whose  loved  forms  I  longed  to  meet 

once  more. 

But,  ah  !  thou  hast  been  called  away,  and  hope's  delusive 

dream 
Is   hushed   'neath   stern   reality's   dark   and   remorseless 

stream, 
Whose  raging  waves  cannot  be  stayed,  howe'er  too  great 

they  seem. 

Although  we  mourn  to  part  with  thee,  yet  why  should  we 

repine, 
When  we  recall  the  past  and  view  the  portion  that  was 

thine, — 
Bereavement,  sorrow,   pain,  and  care,  dealt  by  a  hand 

Divine  ? 

Nor  were  thy  own  afflictions  all  that  tried  thy  tender  mind, 
Thy  eyes  wept  tears  of  sympathy  for  all  the  human  kind 
Who  groaned  beneath  oppression's  scourge,  to  sin  and 
grief  confined. 

Through  faith  and  mercy  thou  didst  strive  to  urge  each 

duty  on, 
Whilst  light  and  strength  of  mind  were  thine  to  have  thy 

work  all  done, 
And  then  wait  patiently  to  hear  thy  Master  bid  thee  come. 

And  may  thy  wise  example  prove  a  lesson  unto  those 
Who  knew  thy  patience,  meekness,  love,  which  lasted  to 

the  close 
Of  thy  long  pilgrimage,  when  thou  hadst  hope  of  heaven's 

repose ! 


TO    THE  DESPONDING. 


37 


TO   THE   DESPONDING. 

THE  flowers  are  brightly  springing 

Within  the  forest  grove; 
The  birds  are  sweetly  singing 

Their  little  songs  of  love. 

Yet  many  hearts  are  weary 

Midst  nature's  cheerful  bloom; 

They  feel  their  pathway  dreary, 
And  think  life's  all  a  gloom. 

Why  are  ye  thus  desponding, 
Sad  pilgrims,  on  your  way? 

Though  trials  great  surround  you, 
And  clouds  obscure  your  day, 

Ye  can  derive  no  comfort 
From  yielding  to  despair; 

It  makes  your  path  more  thorny, 
Your  minds  less  strong  to  bear. 

Raise  up  your  drooping  spirits, 

And  be  resolved  anew 
To  seize  each  harmless  pleasure 

The  world  may  offer  you. 

List  to  the  cheerful  warblers, 
See  the  flowers  proudly  wave, 

As  if  to  bid  all  nature 

Share  in  the  joys  they  have. 
4 


TO    THE  DESPONDING. 

Ye  are  a  part  of  nature, 
Called  by  that  happy  band 

To  join  in  cheerful  praising 
Your  Maker's  bounteous  hand. 

His  works  are  all  dependent 

On  His  almighty  power  • 
And  He  will  ne'er  forsake  them 

In  trial's  darkest  hour. 

If  earth's  small  things  are  guarded 

By  His  protecting  care, 
Will  He  not  think  you  worthy 

His  kindest  love  to  share  ? 

Then  cease  your  sad  repining, 

Nor  murmur  at  your  lot ; 
Although  your  sky  be  darkened, 

Still  trust,  you're  not  forgot 

By  Him  who  loves  and  chastens 
His  children  for  their  good, 

And  bids  them  in  their  trouble 
Seek  peace  and  strength  from  God 

Who  ne'er  withholdeth  comfort 
When  sought  by  those  oppressed, 

But  pities  all  their  sorrows, 
And  gives  the  weary  rest. 


COMPANY. 


39 


COMPANY. 

IT  matters  not  how  great  a  throng 

I  am  surrounded  by ; 
It  matters  not  how  gay  their  song, 

Or  light  their  revelry  : 
They  are  no  company  for  me, 
Unless  some  kindred  sympathy 
Exists  between  their  views  and  mine, 
Our  spirit's  feelings  to  combine. 

It  matters  not  how  high  their  name, 

Or  gorgeous  great  their  store  ; 
It  matters  nothing  whence  they  came, 

Nor  what  their  deeds  of  yore  : 
Their  deeds,  their  home,  their  store,  their  name, 
Alike  from  me  no  homage  claim, 
Unless  their  present  conduct  be 
What  I  approve  in  some  degree. 

I  oft  feel  lonely  in  a  crowd ; 

Though  mirth  and  converse  flow 
Without  reserve  among  the  group, 

No  joy  from  it  I  know; 
Because  their  sentiments  appear 
So  far  from  those  my  heart  holds  dear, 
I  cannot  share  in  their  delight, 
Nor  with  their  practices  unite. 


40 


TRIALS. 

I'd  rather  seek  some  lone  retreat 

Where  quietness  doth  reign, 
Than  opposite  companions  meet, 

Or  they  to  entertain. 
Kindred  spirits  feelings  possess 
Which  yield  each  other  happiness ; 
While  real  enjoyment  cannot  be 
Derived  from  reverse  company. 


TRIALS. 

TRIALS  human  nature  wound, 
Trials  dim  the  eye  with  tears, 

Trials  everywhere  abound, 
Trials  darken  hopeful  years. 

Trials  make  the  cheerful  sad, 
Trials  break  life's  strongest  ties, 

Trials  cause  delights  we  had 
To  sink  oft  no  more  to  rise. 

Although  trials'  painful  sting 
Our  spirits  with  gloom  o'ercast, 

It  possesseth  power  to  bring 
Us  to  comfort's  fount  at  last. 

Trials  earthly  beauties  stain, 
Trials  wean  from  treasures  here, 

Trials  teach  us  how  to  gain 
Treasures  in  a  higher  sphere. 


WHY  ARE    WE  NOT  HAPPY?  41 

Trials  soften  hardened  will, 

Trials  give  new  life  to  prayer, 
Trials  humble  us  to  feel 

Need  of  God's  protecting  care. 

Trials  innate  dross  refine, 

Trials  prove  the  Christian's  faith, 
Trials  make  our  virtues  shine, 

Trials  fit  the  soul  for  death. 


WHY   ARE    WE    NOT    HAPPY? 

WHY  are  we  not  happy  while  journeying  on 

Through  this  world  which  echoes  with  nature's  glad  song ; 

Where  flowers  bloom  gayly,  precious  treasures  abound, 

And  hope's  brilliant  prospects  lie  smiling  around  ; 

Where  social  companions  exchange  smile  for  smile, 

Whose  cheerfulness  often  our  sorrows  beguile ; 

Where  youth  is  insnared  with  the  soft  voice  of  love, 

And  sincere-hearted  friends  their  faithfulness  prove? 

Why  are  we  not  happy  where  scenes  are  so  bright  ? 

Because  earthly  pleasures  are  subject  to  blight, 

Its  friendships  are  fickle,  and  each  cheering  joy 

Is  dimmed  by  disappointment's  cloud  of  alloy : 

The  sunshine  of  hope  and  streamlet  of  gladness 

Being  darkened  at  times  by  storms  of  sadness. 

Our  wills,  our  ambitions,  also,  oft  prevent 

Us  from  choosing  the  path  that  yieldeth  content : 

Unheeding  the  voice  that  rebukes  us  within, 

Preferring  allurements  that  leadeth  to  sin ; 

For  this  we're  unhappy,  and  ever  will  be, 

While  carelessly  gliding  o'er  time's  heaving  sea; 


42  USEFULNESS. 

Its  billows  bewilder,  deceive,  and  o'erwhelm 

The  bark  that  proceeds  without  God  at  the  helm. 

If  we  would  be  happy  and  true  pleasure  know 

While  passing  the  various  changes  below, 

The  will  of  our  Master  must  govern  and  sway 

His  sceptre  of  justice  in  us  day  by  day  ; 

The  shoals  and  the  quicksands  that  lurk  in  our  way 

Wreck  not  our  frail  vessels  if  Him  we  obey. 

His  channels  are  wisdom,  His  compass  is  true, 

He'll  guide  us  in  safety  life's  rough  voyage  through; 

His  anchor  is  steadfast,  His  harbor  secure, 

His  wages  are  peace,  faith,  and  hope  to  endure : 

In  His  favor  alone  is  happiness  found  ; 

Seek  it  there,  and  thy  search  with  success  will  be  crowned. 


USEFULNESS. 

STRICKEN  mourner,  indulge  not  thy  irresolute  feelings, 
nor  sadly  brood  over  the  extent  of  thy  bereavements, 
think  not  even  for  a  moment  thou  art  as  a  cumberer  of 
the  earth,  unfitted  for  practical  usefulness  on  account  of 
being  deprived  of  some  abilities  with  which  thou  wast 
naturally  gifted  ;  but  gratefully  remember  thou  hast  other 
talents  spared  yet,  which,  if  rightly  applied,  will  enable 
thee  to  perform  many  important  services.  While  thy 
reason  is  permitted  to  retain  its  throne,  thy  heavenly 
Father,  who  is  the  author  of  every  gift,  will  undoubtedly 
require  an  increased  return  of  thy  several  talents  from 
their  application  to  various  purposes  beneficial  to  thyself 
and  others  with  whom  thou  mayest  be  called  to  mingle. 
Although  disease  or  accident  may  have  prevented  thee 


USEFULNESS. 


43 


from  enjoying  further  physical  activity,  thou  canst  still 
labor  for  the  advancement  of  mental  improvement  by 
reading,  meditating,  or  solving  the  deep  mysteries  of 
many  abstruse  themes,  whereby  thou  mayest  become 
qualified  to  impart  useful  instruction  to  others  whose 
opportunities  of  acquiring  similar  attainments  are  much 
inferior  to  thy  own.  Thy  ear  may  be  closed  in  silence 
to  the  enchanting  murmurs  of  the  rill,  the  warbling  of 
the  feathered  throng,  or  the  vocal  intercourse  of  social 
companions;  yet  while  thy  eye  can  behold,  thy  mind 
comprehend,  thy  hand  participate  in  necessary  engage 
ments  of  thy  private  home,  and  thy  combined  exertions 
render  partial  assistance  to  fellow- wayfarers  journeying 
within  thy  view  on  life's  road,  thou  canst  perform  a  work 
of  vital  importance  by  contentedly  laboring  within  a 
sphere  adapted  to  thy  remaining  abilities.  If  prostrated 
on  a  bed  of  suffering,  thou  mayest  there,  yes,  even  there, 
be  an  instrument  of  much  usefulness,  teaching  many  in 
structive  lessons  by  thy  patient,  submissive  example, 
thereby  so  clearly  evincing  the  reality  of  many  Divine 
promises  recorded  in  holy  writ,  that  they  who  witness  thy 
peaceful,  enduring  spirit  may  be  led  to  admire  and  ac 
knowledge  the  power  of  Him  who  so  eminently  qualified 
thee  to  thus  minister  to  their  edification.  The  light  of 
thy  outward  eye  having  sunk  forever  in  darkness  doth 
not  prevent  thy  mental  eye  from  beholding  the  light  of 
the  Sun  of  righteousness,  which,  if  abode  in,  will  show 
thee  various  paths  wherein  thou  canst  labor  for  the  pro 
motion  of  general  good  :  it  will  show  thee  when  and  how 
to  caution  the  erring  or  offer  consoling  sympathy  to  the 
mournful  and  afflicted ;  it  will  enable  thee  to  encourage 
by  precept  and  example  a  desponding  brother,  to  instruct 
the  ignorant,  or  with  open  hands  of  charity  to  relieve  much 
outward  oppression  existing  among  the  poor  and  unfor- 


44  USEFULNESS. 

tunate.  Trifling  as  these  humble  services  may  appear  to 
the  restless  longings  of  thy  proud,  ambitious  nature,  thou 
wouldst  find,  on  remembering  our  Saviour's  parable  of 
feeding  the  hungry,  clothing  the  naked,  etc.,  they  are 
really  required  duties  in  the  course  of  Christian  life,  as 
He  plainly  declared,  "That  inasmuch  as  ye  did  these 
things  unto  one  another,  ye  did  them  even  so  unto  me." 
Thou  canst  offer  no  reasonable  argument  in  defense  of 
anxiously  sighing  after  far-off  and  dim  attainments  which 
thou  knowest  are  beyond  thy  power  to  secure,  while  the 
beautiful  objects  of  simple  nature  lying  around  on  every 
side  are  perpetually  offering  up  their  hymn  of  grateful 
content  to  that  Being  who  brought  them  into  existence 
the  same  as  thee,  and  designated  a  respective  sphere  for 
each  to  fill.  Wouldst  thou  carefully  ponder  the  lessons 
of  gentle  instruction  which  bird,  leaf,  flower-laden  bees, 
and  busy  ants  are  teaching,  all  thy  restless  yearnings 
would  be  silenced  into  peace,  under  a  humbling  sense  of 
thy  own  unfaithfulness  and  ingratitude  to  Him  who 
according  to  His  wisdom  allotted  a  lowly  state  to  thee. 
Thou  wilt  find  'tis  not  by  great  achievements  which  excite 
loud  applauses  from  the  gazing  crowd  thou  canst  win  the 
immortal  crown,  but  by  hearty  striving  to  meekly  tread 
the  path  wherein  thy  lot  is  providentially  or  accidentally 
cast ;  however  humble,  rugged,  or  lonely  that  path  be, 
thou  canst  truly  live  or  truly  answer  the  designed  purpose 
of  thy  creation. 


TO  ADA.  45 


TO   ADA. 

MY  absent  one,  I  love  thee  dearly, 
Better  far  than  words  can  tell ; 

I  would  thou  couldst  still  be  near  me, 
Clouds  of  sorrow  to  dispel. 

I  miss  thy  gay  and  girlish  prattle, 
Thy  quick  step  of  youthful  glee, 

When  headlong  through  all  seeming  danger 
Thou  went  bounding  forth  from  me, 

To  join  thy  comrades  wild  and  giddy, 
Sporting  o'er  the  school-house  lawn, 

While  the  dark  forest  echoed  loudly 
With  the  voices  of  your  throng. 

I  miss  the  pleasure  of  thy  reading, 
None  is  near  to  cheer  my  way, 

And  I  in  silent  darkness  sitting 
All  alone  day  after  day. 

Our  rides  and  walks  I  well  remember 
To  our  neighbor's  friendly  hearth, 

Where  we  of  yore  were  wont  to  wander 
For  an  hour  of  blameless  mirth. 

Though,  Ada,  child,  those  joys  are  over, 

And  thy  feet  now  wander  far 
From  all  the  scenes  of  merry  childhood, 

Treading  where  broad  prairies  are, 


46  TO  ADA. 

Cast,  often  cast  a  thought  behind  thee, 
On  the  bliss  of  bygone  days, 

On  dear  Aunt  Mary,  who  so  kindly 
Watched  the  errors  of  thy  ways ; 

Who  was  thy  friend  when  seemed  no  other, 
Listening  to  thy  tale  of  woe, 

'Midst  danger's  slander,  homeless  orphan, 
Thou  wast  roaming  this  world  through. 

Think  fondly  of  thy  aged  grandfather, 
Bending  'neath  the  weight  of  years, 

Yet  for  thy  comfort  very  anxious, 
Striving  much  to  soothe  thy  fears. 

Let  us  not  feel  that  our  devotion 
Has  been  placed  amiss  on  thee, 

Who  from  thy  hours  of  helpless  childhood 
Claimed  our  tender  sympathy. 

Schoolmates  and  neighbors  cherish  feelings 
Kind  and  true  for  thee,  as  one 

With  whom  in  former  days  they  sported 
Ere  thou  left  thy  native  home 

To  journey  over  plains  and  mountains, 

Rivers  deep  and  forests  tall, 
To  seek  a  father's  kind  protection 

On  the  northern  prairie  soil. 

Should  future  years  strew  in  thy  pathway 
Flowers  more  brilliant  than  the  past, 

Forget  not  then  thy  old  companions 
Who  were  friends  in  trial's  blast. 


INVOCATIONS.  47 

That  distance,  time,  or  change  may  never 

Blight  attachments  early  made, 
True  friendship's  golden  links  should  ever 

Shine  the  same  in  sun  and  shade. 


INVOCATIONS. 

IN  thoughtful  mood,  oh,  Father,  Lord, 

I  would  draw  nigh  to  Thee, 
And  wait  for  Thy  in-teaching  word 

To  be  revealed  to  me. 

To  see  Thee  point  the  way, 

Wherein  to  walk  each  day, 
Consistent  with  Thy  righteous  will ; 

Looking  to  Thee  alone 

For  strength  to  struggle  on 
Until  I  Thy  requirings  fill. 

I  wduld  approach  Thy  throne  in  faith, 

Would  kiss  the  chastening  rod  ; 
Would  I  might  die  a  righteous  death 

And  own  Thee  as  my  God  ! 

But  oh  !  how  slow  to  live 

A  righteous  life,  or  give 
Self  entirely  into  Thy  hand  ! 

Willing  to  bear  or  do 

Whatever  in  Thy  view 
Appeareth  proper  to  command. 

I  feel  unable  to  do  more 
Than  cast  my  all  on  Thee, 


48  INVOCATIONS. 

And  in  simplicity  implore 

Thy  tender  sympathy. 

I  know  I  need  Thy  grace 

To  show  me  my  right  place, 
But  also  need  a  willing  heart 

To  cheerfully  obey 

Thy  voice  when  shown  the  way, 
Rather  than  choose  the  erring  part. 

Thou  knowest  I  am  nothing  more 
Than  dust  with  breath  within, 

Wholly  dependent  on  Thy  power 
For  might  to  conquer  sin. 
Thou  knowest,  too,  how  oft 
I  strive  to  look  aloft 

In  search  of  some  protection  there, 
When  Satan  sends  his  dart 
Of  anguish  to  my  heart, 

With  force  frail  nature  cannot  bear. 

Forgive  then,  Father,  oh,  forgive, 
Nature's  defective  deeds, 

And  at  Thy  mercy-seat  receive 
The  prayer  my  Saviour  pleads ! 
Close  not  Thy  ear  or  eye 
To  my  soul's  tears  and  cry; 

Though  I  fall  short  of  serving  Thee 
As  fully  as  I  ought, 
In  action,  word,  or  thought, 

Be  pleased  my  refuge  still  to  be. 

Almighty  God,  Thy  watchful  eye 
Beholds  each  action  here  below, 

Marks  every  rising  tear  and  sigh 
That  in  my  wounded  spirit  flow, 


INVOCATIONS, 

Thou  seest  why  it  is  I  grieve, 

The  injuries  I  strive  to  bear; 
Thy  ear  is  open  to  receive 

My  humble,  trusting,  silent  prayer. 

In  secret  thought  I  turn  to  Thee 
When  angry  passions  darkly  fall, 

When  scorn  or  malice  frown  on  me, 
And  feel  assured  Thou  knowest  all. 

Oh,  keep  me  near  in  danger's  hour, 

Nor  let  me  faint  upon  the  road, 
Guard,  guide,  and  strengthen  by  Thy  power, 

To  rightly  bear  life's  common  load. 

Grant  patient  meekness  to  endure 
Excitement's  harsh  and  hasty  tone ; 

False  accusation's  painful  sting 

Was  on  my  gracious  Saviour  thrown. 

Though  woes  were  His,  He  never  fell, 
His  mocker's  scorn  He  meekly  bore ; 

In  pain  and  death,  the  Scriptures  tell, 
He  plead  forgiveness  with  his  gore. 

By  grace  help  me  like  Him  to  see 
Opponents  know  not  what  they  do; 

Make  me  forget  their  erring  deeds, 
And  feel  forgiveness  toward  them  too. 

That  as  my  heart  with  mercy  swells, 
And  charity  my  thoughts  command, 

Mercy  Divine  may  rest  on  me 

When  at  the  judgment-seat  I  stand. 


49 


50  INVOCATIONS. 

Help  me,  O  Lord,  to  say, 
Thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done ; 
Grant  strength  to  tread  the  narrow  way 
Once  trodden  by  Thy  Son. 

He  well  remembers  yet 
The  sting  of  mockers'  wrath, 
And  sore  temptations  which  beset 
The  traveler  on  life's  path. 

He  well  remembers  too 
The  frailty  of  my  dust, 
My  need  of  aid  Thy  work  to  do, 
Or  e'en  Thy  wisdom  trust. 

My  cup  was  His  before 
'Twas  given  unto  me  ; 
In  pity,  at  Thy  throne  of  power 
He  pleads  my  cause  with  Thee. 

Then,  Father,  for  His  sake, 
Help  me  to  meekly  bear 
Each  trial  that  shall  overtake 
Me  while  I  journey  here. 

Be  near  when  troubles  lower, 
Incline  my  heart  to  Thee; 
Enable  me  by  faith  to  soar 
Far  'bove  despondency. 

That  over  dangers  strewn 
By  error's  cruel  blast, 
I  may  through  faith  in  Thy  dear  Son 
Prove  conqueror  at  last. 


THE  BACHELOR.  51 


THE   BACHELOR. 

A  BACHELOR  sad  sat  alone  by  the  fire, 

And  thought  of  his  comrades  with  envy  and  ire ; 

Comrades  so  wise  in  the  morning  of  life 

As  to  share  their  fate  with  a  partner, — a  wife. 

A  wife,  who  with  judgment  could  broil  them  a  fish, 

Mend  neatly  their  clothing,  or  wash  them  a  dish ; 

Could  chatter  and  smile,  while  the  fire  blazed  high, 

To  reflect  all  her  charms  as  the  hours  glided  by. 

"Oh,  happy,  thrice  happy,"  this  bachelor  said, 

"  These  comrades  must  feel  on  retiring  to  bed, 

To  know  in  the  morning  a  handsome  repast 

Will  be  spread  out  before  them  without  the  dull  task 

Of  applying  the  care  of  their  own  awkward  head 

To  frying  their  meat  and  to  baking  their  bread ; 

Whilst  I,  poor,  lone  wretch  !  must  awake  to  the  doom 

Of  making  my  bed  and  of  brushing  my  room, 

Prepare  my  own  breakfast,  and  silently  sit 

Alone  at  the  table  my  plain  meal  to  eat ; 

Untutored,  unskilled,  to  fling  the  dish-water 

Roughly  over  my  sullied  tumbler  and  platter. 

The  hearthstone,  the  mirror,  the  casement,  all  show 

The  want  of  a  dear  hand  to  brighten  their  glow, 

To  twine  the  wild  rose  and  the  jasmine  sweet 

At  the  sides  of  the  door  till  their  branches  would  meet. 

Oh,  a  hand  and  a  heart  that  would  meet  me  with  smiles, 

When  at  noon  or  at  eve  I  return  from  my  toils, 

Would  make  me  forget  half  the  sorrows  of  life, 

And  rejoice  in  the  day  I  married  a  wife  !" 


LET  US  NOT  BE    WEARY. 


AND  LET  US  NOT  BE  WEARY  IN  WELL 
DOING:  FOR  IN  DUE  SEASON  WE 
SHALL  REAP,  IF  WE  FAINT  NOT.— 
GAL.  vi.  9.  « 

MOURNER,  if  thou  hast  never  been  favored  with  a  sight 
of  the  beauty  of  this  encouraging  language  in  seasons 
when  trials  of  various  character  afflicted  thy  tender  mind 
to  an  extent  that  caused  thy  natural  fortitude  to  give  way 
beneath  their  weight,  if  thou  hast  not  been  awakened  to 
a  just  sense  of  the  significance  of  this  caution,  which 
continues  to  be  as  necessary  and  instructive  at  the  present 
day  as  when  it  was  first  declared,  pause  now  and  con 
sider  how  oft  thou  art  weary  in  well-doing,  how  oft  when 
encompassed  with  circumstances  which  cross  thy  nature 
thou,  instead  of  striving  to  overcome  with  watchfulness 
and  prayer  evils  which  arise  in  thy  way,  yieldest  to  impa 
tience,  fretfulness,  fruitless  grief,  murmuring,  or  repining, 
until  thy  harassed  mind  becomes  so  far  overpowered  by 
their  pernicious  influence  that  thou  feelest  unable  to 
longer  endure  the  trials  of  life,  and  anxiously  yearns  to 
be  released  therefrom,  wholly  forgetting  the  cross  is  the 
only  means  whereby  thou  canst  expect  to  receive  the 
promised  reward.  The  innate  reluctance  of  human  na 
ture  to  meekly  abide  under  the  cross  of  trials  is  the  great 
stumbling-block  whereon  thy  good  resolutions  are  so  fre 
quently  wrecked,  the  barrier  that  so  easily  obstructs  thy 
progress  in  spiritual  improvement,  causing  thee  to  uncon 
sciously  fall  into  the  above-mentioned  gross  errors,  which, 
when  rightly  considered,  are  plain  indications  of  weari 
ness  in  well-doing,  losing  hold  of  faith,  fainting  on  the 


LET  US  NOT  BE  WEARY. 


53 


way,  indulging  weakness,  encouraging  the  enemy,  yield 
ing  to  temptation,  and  shrinking  from  services  Divinely 
required  of  thee  to  perform.  Thou  canst  plead  no  igno 
rance  of  knowing  the  way,  canst  offer  no  other  apology 
for  thy  unfaithfulness  than  unwatchfulness  or  unwilling 
ness  to  obey  the  inspeaking  voice  of  wisdom,  which  at  all 
times,  in  all  places,  under  all  circumstances,  would  wisely 
direct,  instruct,  encourage,  sustain,  and  preserve  thee  in 
well-doing,  whereby  thou  wouldst  experience  a  qualifica 
tion  to  journey  on  in  comparative  safety  amidst  confusion, 
temptation,  and  distress.  Submission  to  crosses  of  every 
character  is  the  first  and  only  safe  step  to  be  taken  toward 
attaining  to  a  resigned,  patient  spirit,  without  which  thou 
art  wholly  unable  to  keep  on  thy  guard  against  approach 
ing  dangers,  to  surmount  present  difficulties,  to  persevere 
in  good  resolutions,  or  even  hope,  through  faith  in  the 
reality  of  Divine  promises,  to  reap  in  due  season  a  rich 
harvest  of  joy  from  seeds  laboriously  sown  in  sorrow.  If 
thou  wouldst  enjoy  a  foretaste  or  secure  a  well-grounded 
hope  of  life  eternal,  thou  must  allow  Patience  to  have  her 
perfect  work,  wrestle  to  the  end  against  temptations  which 
daily  surround  thee,  remembering  it  is  not  until  thy  course 
is  finished,  thy  spirit's  warfare  entirely  completed,  thou 
canst  receive  the  immortal  crown. 

SOUL,  be  not  weary  in  well-doing, 

But  nobly  struggle  on  thy  way, 
Though  wrongs,  temptations,  pain,  and  sorrow 

Attend  thy  earthly  course  each  day. 

Be  not  discouraged  nor  affrighted, 
Though  thy  allotted  work  be  great ; 

Toil  on,  and  hope  by  hearty  striving 
To  reap  joys  of  far  greater  weight. 
5* 


54 


THE  PAST  AND    THE  FUTURE. 

Faint  not,  nor  doubt  the  promised  blessing, 

A  rich  reward  awaits  thy  end ; 
"Pis  won  alone  by  faithful  wrestling, 

And  trusting  in  the  sinner's  Friend. 

Faint  not,  nor  seek  to  'scape  thy  burden 
Ere  the  due  harvest-time  is  come, 

Ere  thou  art  bid  to  cease  from  labor, 
And  find  rest  in  thy  Master's  home. 


THE    PAST   AND    THE    FUTURE. 

THE  past,  the  past  is  gone  forever, 

Whether  wisely  spent  or  not; 
The  future  is  not,  may  be  never, 

Granted  to  our  earthly  lot. 

The  past  was  fraught  with  many  lessons 

Calculated  to  improve ; 
The  future,  should  we  live  to  see  it, 

May  to  us  less  favored  prove. 

The  past  was  mingled  joy  and  sorrow, 

Good  and  evil,  hope  and  fear ; 
The  future  will  alike  be  mottled 

With  alternate  changes  here. 

The  past  we  can  no -more  recover, 
Though  our-deeds  we  may  regret ; 

The  future  ne'er  can  fill  the  breaches 
Error  in  the  past  hath  set. 


THE  BLIND   GIRL'S  LAMENT.  ee 


The  past  is  gone,  and  gone  forever, 
Bearing  with  it  wasted  powers ; 

The  future  is  to  us  uncertain, 
The  present  alone  is  ours. 


THE    BLIND    GIRL'S   LAMENT. 

I  HEAR  people  talk  of  the  beautiful  flowers 
In  brilliant  array  decorating  the  bowers ; 
Their  numberless  species,  form,  odor,  and  hue, 
Are  a  subject  of  chat  the  long  summer  through. 
Their  form  I  can  feel,  I  their  odor  can  smell, 
Of  their  various  tints  I  nothing  can  tell ; 
Their  appearance  I  strive  to  picture  in  mind  : 
How  vain  the  attempt,  I'm  blind,  oh,  I'm  blind  ! 

I  hear  people  talk  of  the  rainbow  on  high, 
Of  planets  that  shine  in  the  clear  azure  sky, 
Of  the  beauty  of  sunset  gilding  the  west, 
Of  morning's  pale  light  in  the  dim  distant  east. 
I  hear  the  sweet  sounds  of  the  wild  feathered  tribe, 
But  their  plumage  is  not  for  me  to  describe  ; 
Though  around  me  these  beauties  constantly  shine, 
I  cannot  enjoy  them,  I'm  blind,  oh,  I'm  blind  ! 

I  hear  people  talk  of  achievements  of  art, 

Of  wonders  the  lessons  of  science  impart ; 

I  hear,  but  to  me  outward  things  are  obscure, 

My  portion  is  not  to  behold  but  endure. 

My  path  is  devoid  of  a  luminous  flame, 

Before  me,  above,  all  around,  is  the  same ; 

Wherever  I  roam,  only  darkness  I  find, 

I  scarce  know  what  light  is,  I'm  blind,  oh,  I'm  blind  ! 


56  LABOR. 


LABOR. 

WE  retire  to  our  rest  when  shadows  of  night 
Closely  conceal  the  bright  sun  from  our  view, 

But  anxiously  watch  for  the  early  dawn's  light 
That  we  may  timely  our  labor  pursue. 

We  rise,  and  with  earnest  ambition  perform 
Each  task  that  we  think  will  add  to  our  store  ; 

We  regard  not  fatigue,  care,  sunshine,  or  storm, 
If  of  worldly  gain  we  can  gather  more. 

We  plead  the  great  need  of  providing  for  age 
Or  sickness  while  time  and  talents  are  spared  ; 

We're  quick  in  enriching  pursuits  to  engage, 
Happy  in  thinking  we're  for  life  prepared. 

But,  alas  !  how  many,  while  toiling  to  win 
An  ample  supply  for  sickness  or  age, 

Forget  the  great  need  of  a  labor  within, 
In  which  we  cannot  too  early  engage  ! 

There's  a  life  of  eternal  comfort  or  woe, 
To  follow  our  natural  life  on  earth ; 

For  which  to  prepare  it  is  needful  to  know 
Our  minds  are  acquiring  treasures  of  worth. 

It  is  needful  to  watch  the  dawning  of  light 
God's  grace  to  the  spirit  clearly  imparts, 

That  our  mental  work  be  accomplished  aright 
Ere  the  bright  sun  of  our  reason  departs. 


INNOCENCE.  5  7 


INNOCENCE. 

How  happy  is  that  pilgrim's  lot, 

How  free  from  every  anxious  thought, 

Whose  guarded  care  to  watch  within 

Preserves  him  from  the  snares  of  sin  ! 

He  is  exempt  from  shame  or  fear, 

His  acts  will  close  inspection  bear, 

Whoever  he  may  chance  to  meet 

He  can  with  full  assurance  greet. 

Remorse  or  dread  mar  not  his  rest, 

While  innocence  dwells  in  his  breast, 

Her  presence  yields  content  and  peace, 

Her  power  to  soothe  will  never  cease. 

Amidst  confusion  or  distress 

She  calmly  whispers  quietness ; 

A  conscious  sense  of  having  done 

The  right,  or  having  error  shunned, 

Preserves  the  mind  from  doubt  or  gloom 

When  summoned  to  the  narrow  tomb. 

If  we  on  all  occasions  would 

Withstand  the  tempter's  lures  from  good, — 

If  we  in  virtue  would  be  strong 

When  conscience  points  the  right  from  wrong, 

E'er  choosing  innocence  to  be 

The  standard  of  our  destiny, 

Our  words,  our  actions,  to  control, 

And  fit  for  life  or  death  the  soul, — 

Our  pr^se.;t  load  would  be  more  light, 

Our  future  prospect  far  more  bright, 

c* 


HOME. 


No  recollections  of  the  past 
Would  then  disturb  our  peace  at  last. 
Oh,  could  we  bear  in  mind  this  thought, 
What  care,  what  caution,  would  be  taught ! 


HOME. 

MY  childhood's  home,  thy  banks  and  streams, 
Loved  beauties  'neath  my  native  sky, 

Ye  still  are  mine  in  fancied  dreams, 

Though  heights  and  depths  between  us  lie. 

Though  fortune  bids  that  I  should  roam 
'Midst  stranger  haunts  in  distant  clime, 

Long  will  the  memory  of  thy  charms 
Within  my  heart's  recesses  twine. 

Though  stranger  haunts,  and  stranger  forms, 
In  future  years  should  have  for  me 

Some  charm  for  which  my  bosom  yearns, 
And  once  was  wont  to  gain  from  thee, 

E'en  then  fond  memory  will  recall, 

Ye  rock-clad  banks,  youth's  loved  retreat, 

Where  oft  in  bygone  days  I  roamed 
With  friends  I  never  more  shall  meet. 

For  eyes  are  dim,  and  hearts  are  cold, 
That  once  pulsated  warm  and  quick, 

Responding  to  some  kindred  mind 

In  fonder  tones  than  words  could  speak. 


HOME. 

And  others,  whom  the  hand  of  death 
Has  spared  awhile  to  stem  life's  tide, 

Were  lured  from  ye,  our  native  haunts, 
And  now  are  scattered  far  and  wide. 

Though  strangers  now  roam  through  thy  groves, 

And  friends  beloved  are  far  away, 
Still,  all  thy  scenes  possess  a  charm 

For  me,  which  never  can  decay. 

Yes,  in  each  grove  and  rock  and  stream 
My  fancy  views  some  past  delight, 

Which  clings  more  closely  round  my  heart 
Since  fate  removed  me  from  their  sight. 

Yet  I  could  bid  each  hill  and  vale 

Bloom  on  with  crops  and  flowerets  fair, 

As  when  of  yore  they  bloomed  for  me, 
Producing  treasures  rich  and  rare. 

And  oft  in  silent,  sorrowing  hours 

I  feel  a  hope  within  me  rise, 
That  I  again  in  future  years 

Might  bask  beneath  my.  native  skies. 

That  I  again  might  listen  to 

The  streamlet,  as  it  ripples  o'er 
The  rocks,  with  the  same  merry  mirth 

As  when  I  heard  its  sound  before. 

That  I  once  more  might  tread  the  mead 
And  garden  where  in  youth  I  roved ; 

Although  I  ne'er  again  may  grasp 

The  hands  of  some  whose  voice  I  loved. 


59 


60  DEATH-BED  REPENTANCE. 


DEATH-BED    REPENTANCE. 

FEW  persons  endowed  with  ordinary  intellectual  powers, 
and  favored  with  enlightened  opportunities,  are  so  de 
praved  as  not  to  desire  to  die  a  righteous  death ;  but  far 
too  few  are  sufficiently  willing  to  prepare  for  such  a  death 
by  endeavoring  to  live  a  righteous,  self-denying  life,  until 
alarmed  with  a  sight  of  the  pale  messenger's  near  ap 
proach.  Human  life  has  been  compared  to  a  day  of 
twelve  hours,  which  closes  in  darkness,  wherein  no  man 
can  work ;  and  the  more  seriously  I  meditate  upon  the 
comparison,  the  more  clearly  I  perceive  the  propriety 
thereof,  knowing  as  many  days  are  much  shortened  by 
the  dark  shadows  of  a  stormy  night,  obscuring  the  earth 
at  a  premature  hour,  so  in  like  manner  dark  shadows  of 
disease,  producing  insensibility  or  death,  frequently  over 
take  mankind  at  a  premature  age,  whereby  many  are  un 
expectedly  deprived  of  time  or  opportunity  to  accomplish 
spiritual  labor.  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt  the  peaceful 
close  of  many  who  lived  a  profligate  life  until  prostrated 
upon  a  bed  of  irremediable  sickness,  when  through  Divine 
mercy  they  were  favored  with  time  and  reason  to  see  their 
end  was  near,  and  their  want  of  being  prepared  to  meet 
it;  nor  have  I  any  greater  reas'on  to  doubt  the  danger  of 
disregarding  the  impulse  of  Divine  grace  at  the  time  it 
appeareth  unto  us  with  a  prospect  of  obtaining  peace 
through  repentance  and  forgiveness  at  what  is  termed  the 
eleventh  hour.  I  have  not  quite  completed  my  forty- 
ninth  year ;  yet,  on  reflecting,  can  recall  more  than  double 
that  number  of  unconscious  deaths  which  occurred  within 
my  knowledge  during  that  period  of  time.  I  have  known 


LINES    TO   MY  ELDEST  BROTHER.  6l 

youths  treading  the  most  flowery  paths  of  earth,  who  were 
by  accident  suddenly  hurled  from  a  state  of  mortal  exist 
ence  without  one  moment's  warning,  to  glance  at  the  past 
or  the  future,  while  others  of  different  ages,  removed  more 
gradually  from  time  to  eternity  by  the  power  of  disease, 
were  stricken  down  into  utter  insensibility,  the  darkness 
of  which  prevented  them  from  beholding  their  real  situa 
tion  or  having  an  opportunity  at  that  solemn  hour  to 
repent.  Although  such  instances  furnish  indisputable 
evidence  of  the  uncertainty  of  life  as  well  as  the  uncer 
tainty  of  what  our  mental  condition  may  be  when  placed 
upon  a  dying  bed,  we  frequently  meet  with  persons  who 
seem  to  be  fully  sensible  of  being  accountable  creatures, 
gifted  with  souls  which  must  at  the  end  of  time  appear 
before  a  Supreme  Judge  to  be  sentenced  to  eternal  bliss  or 
woe,  according  to  the  deeds  done  while  in  the  body,  yet 
sensible  as  they  seem  to  be  of  all  this,  willfully  reject  every 
caution  against  practices  which  they  know  are  open  viola 
tions  of  the  commands  of  God,  preferring  to  risk  the 
safety  of  their  eternal  peace  to  the  narrow  chance  of  im 
ploring  pardon  in  approaching  dissolution. 


LINES 

ADDRESSED    TO   MY    ELDEST   BROTHER  WHILE   UNDER 
AFFLICTION. 

AH,  brother  dear,  my  feelings  melt 

With  tender  sympathy  for  thee; 
Having  the  same  affliction  felt 

That  clouds  thy  present  destiny. 
6 


62 


"Pis  sad  to  think  that  thou  and  I, 
The  eldest  of  our  childish  band, 

Should  each  have  light  in  days  gone  by, 
In  age  each  must  in  darkness  stand. 

We  were  companions  in  our  youth, 
At  home,  at  school,  in  joys,  in  cares, 

But  seem  unable  now  to  soothe 
Each  other  in  declining  years. 

Though  distance,  darkness,  poverty, 
Forbid  aid  in  the  outward  sense, 

Methinks  our  mental  powers  may  lend 
Support  in  ways  of  worth  immense. 

We  may  encourage  and  console 
Each  other  on  our  toilsome  way, 

And  with  sincerity  of  soul 
For  one  another's  safety  pray. 

Yes,  brother,  though  we  are  bereft 
Of  nature's  gifts  in  some  degree, 

If  we  employ  the  talents  left, 
We  yet  may  of  much  service  be  : 

Of  service  in  the  hand  of  God, 
By  precept  and  example  too ; 

Then  let  us  struggle  on  our  road, 
And  fill  the  task  we  find  to  do. 

Think  not,  tried  one,  because  I  write 
With  seeming  calmness  of  my  lot, 

I  have  of  doubting  hours  lost  sight, 
Or  nature's  weaknesses  forgot. 


LINES    TO   MY  ELDEST  BROTHER.  63 

I  would  not  check  the  flowing  tear, 

Nor  chide  the  heavy,  rising  sigh, 
When  sore  oppression  shades  with  fear 

The  future  prospect  of  thy  sky. 

I  know,  alas  !  too  well  I  know 

The  trials  of  a  darkened  state, 
The  ills  that  from  dependence  flow, 

The  torture  of  afflictions'  weight. 

I  would  I  could  thy  woes  assuage, 

Would  I  could  proffer  outward  means 

Whereby  infirmities  of  age 

Might  feel  secure  from  scanty  scenes. 

But  since  such  favored  power  is  not 

My  happy  portion  to  possess, 
Let  us  in  faith  commit  our  lot 

To  Him  who  doth  affliction  bless. 

That  we,  amidst  the  sable  gloom 

Which  doth  obscure  our  journey  here, 

May  picture  light  beyond  the  tomb, 
Eternal  in  a  Higher  sphere. 


64  A   RESOLUTION. 


A   RESOLUTION. 

LET  others  shun  the  narrow  way, 

Or  jest  of  duties  given, 
I  will  not  jest  the  same  as  they 

Of  favors  sent  from  Heaven. 
Let  them  profane  expressions  make, 

Or  scorn  the  sacred  word, 
The  course  which  leads  to  peace  I'll  take 

And  strive  to  serve  the  Lord. 

He  hath  to  me  in  kindness  shown 

The  sinfulness  of  sin  ; 
Taught  me  His  righteous  cause  to  own, 

Eternal  life  to  win. 
He  hath  my  spirit  made  alive 

By  holy  grace  to  see, 
We  are  not  Christians  lest  we  strive 

'Gainst  Satan's  victory. 

While  many  wander  from  His  feet 

And  join  the  erring  throng, 
He  still  in  mercy  seeth  meet 

To  show  me  right  from  wrong 
Since  He  is  pleased  to  thus  unfold 

His  purposes  to  me, 
I'll  strive  to  be  one  of  His  fold 

And  serve  Him  faithfully. 


EMPLOYMENT.  65 

Although  He  may  at  times  appoint 

Strange  work  for  me  to  do, 
I  know  He  will  my  powers  anoint 

With  might  to  struggle  through. 
He'll  grant  me  strength  to  meekly  bear 

Derision  for  His  name, 
If  I  make  it  my  chiefest  care 

His  goodness  to  proclaim. 

Others  may  trifle  years  away, 

Abuse  each  noble  power, 
Defer  the  labor  of  their  day 

Till  the  eleventh  hour. 
I  covet  not  the  transient  joy 

Of  folly's  light  reward, 
But  choose  my  talents  to  employ 

In  ways  that  please  the  Lord. 


EMPLOYMENT. 

EMPLOYMENT  doth  beguile 

The  weight  of  moments,  while 
Beneath  some  grievous  cross  we  stand ; 

The  sting  of  grief  or  pain 

Is  oft  forgotten  when 
Close  engagements  our  thoughts  demand. 

We  find  no  time  to  brood 
O'er  shadows  which  intrude 
Upon  the  lustre  of  our  way, 
6* 


66  EMPL  O  YMENT. 

While  earnest  toil  and  care 
Our  chief  attention  share 
Through  each  period  of  the  day. 

. 
It  matters  not  the  name 

Of  tasks,  by  which  we  aim 
To  gain  relief  from  burdens  here, 

Each  task  doth  power  possess 

To  yield  forgetfulness 
Of  ills  which  make  our  pathway  drear. 

Books,  work,  or  healthful  play, 

Though  different,  each  may 
Alike  divert  the  harassed  mind, 

Each  afford  partial  rest 

At  intervals  at  least, 
Whence  drooping  spirits  comfort  find. 

Oh  that  all  would  believe 

The  pleasure  they  receive 
Who  carefully  employ  their  time, 

Instead  of  wasting  days 

In  fruitless,  mournful  ways, 
While  they  life's  rugged  pathway  climb ! 

More  happy  and  more  wise 

The  scene  that  round  us  lies 
Would  seem,  did  mortals  in  distress 

Their  every  power  employ 

In  acts  of  harmless  joy, 
Rather  than  churlish  fretfulness. 

Grief  amends  not  the  past, 
Nor  restores  what  is  lost ; 


STORMS.  67 

Then  ne'er  indulge  sad  brooding  o'er 

The  common  ills  of  life, 

Laden  with  gloom  and  strife, 
But  seek  employment's  cheering  power. 


STORMS. 

THE  day  is  cold,  the  sky  is  dark, 
The  autumn  winds  are  sighing, 

And  scattered  snowflakes  place  a  mark 
On  beauties  drooping,  dying. 

What  care  I  for  the  outward  storm 
That  howls  around  my  dwelling, 

While  sheltered  from  all  threatening  harm 
In  rude  elements  swelling  ? 

What  care  I  for  the  blighting  chill 
That  withers  nature's  beauties, 

While  by  the  fireside  snug  and  still 
Musing  upon  life's  duties  ? 

I  heed  it  not,  though  dark  the  sky 
And  loud  the  rough  winds  sighing, 

While  peace  and  plenty  linger  nigh 
I've  joy's  full  satisfying. 

But,  oh,  how  sad  I  feel  when  clouds 

Of  envy  near  me  hover ; 
When  wrath  and  censure's  homely  shroud 

My  wounded  spirit  cover ! 


68  STORMS. 

Then  grief  and  fear  obscure  my  mind 
And  blight  each  cheerful  feeling, 

So  that  where'er  I  roam  I  find 
No  solace,  sorrow  healing. 

Of  all  the  ills  that  fill  our  lot, 

None  are  to  be  lamented 
More  than  mental  storms  which  are  not 

Oft  properly  repented. 

They  dim  the  brightest  eye  with  tears, 
They  mar  home's  choicest  treasures, 

They  darken  our  most  hopeful  years 
And  rob  us  of  just  pleasures. 

Then  let  us  strive  to  guard  within 
'Gainst  wounding  one  another, 

And  check  the  growth  of  every  sin 
That  wrongs  a  fellow-brother. 


ACROSTIC.  69 


ACROSTIC. 

AFFLICTIONS,  though  they're  oft  in  mercy  sent, 
Feel  to  our  nature  far  from  mercies  lent, 
Far  from  the  plan  by  which  we  would  begin 
Life  here  to  spend  or  life  above  to  win  ; 
In  pain  or  grief  alone  we  feel  how  weak, 
Corrupt,  and  slow  we  are  the  Lord  to  seek. 
The  stain  afflictions  cast  on  earthly  views 
Inclines  our  hearts  the  better  part  to  choose, 
Opens  our  mental  eyes  to  clearly  see 
Naught  but  God's  grace  can  set  the  spirit  free. 

Comfort  proceeds  from  crosses'  pinching  weight, 
Our  peace  we  seek  when  bowed  by  adverse  fate; 
Minds  learn  submission,  grateful  anthems  sing 
From  lessons  taught  by. sharp  affliction's  sting; 
Our  faith  is  proved,  our  hope  of  future  joy 
Revives,  when  pain  present  delights  destroy  ; 
The  dross  of  metal  is  by  heat  refined, 
So  trial's  heat  refines  the  dross  of  mind. 

Christians  appreciate  the  wise  design 
Heaven  hath  planned  to  make  their  virtues  shine, 
Redeemed  from  dangers  innate  errors  spread 
In  strange  disguise  around  the  path  they  tread ; 
Sustained  by  faith  in  Him,  who  tried  before 
The  scorching  flames  of  all  they  now  endure, 
In  patience  safely  struggle  on  their  way. 
Although  obstructions  meet  them  day  by  day, 
No  ills  alarm ;  they  know  the  chastening  rod 
Strikes  not  in  wrath,  but  to  turn  souls  to  God. 


70  SILENCE. 


SILENCE. 

How  safe,  peaceful,  discreet,  and  irresistible,  is  the 
power  of  silence.  Even  those  of  immoral  principles  are 
instinctively  compelled  at  times  to  acknowledge  its  rebuk 
ing  effects,  having  defeated  and  mortified  their  evilly 
intended  insults  towards  innocent  persons.  The  influence 
of  silence  is  so  admirably  calculated  to  prevent  contention, 
counteract  wrath,  discourage  slander,  sustain  innocence, 
secure  respect,  promote  and  preserve  peace,  that  it  may 
be  justly  considered  a  safe  refuge  accessible  to  all  from 
peculiar  dangers  and  errors.  Every  careful  observer  will 
admit  that  much  of  the  evil  existing  in  the  world  arises 
from  unguarded  expressions.  Heartrending  grief  or  guilt 
may  be  incurred  by  a  few  words  incautiously  spoken  in  an 
improper  manner.  Consequently  he  who  gives  due  heed 
to  silence  not  only  escapes  the  danger  of  exciting  others 
to  error,  but  in  many  instances  escapes  having  his  own 
feelings  wounded  by  unjust  censure  or  retort  from  retalia 
ting  opponents,  whereby  he  realizes  safe  protection  from 
guilt,  reproach,  fear  or  shame.  In  silence  a  man  can 
peaceably  enjoy  his  own  sentiments,  however  different 
they  may  be  from  the  sentiments  of  those  around  him. 
By  meditating  in  silence  great  minds  solve  the  deep  mys 
teries  of  important  discoveries  and  inventions. 

In  silence  the  inward  whisperings  of  Divine  grace,  which 
points  the  right  from  wrong  in  every  human  heart,  are 
most  perceptible.  In  silence  every  rational  being  can 
appreciate  best  his  own  private  trials  and  errors,  and 


MARYLAND.  7! 

clearly  comprehend  the  exact  points  wherein  his  spirit  is 
at  variance  with  the  Spirit  of  God.  In  silence  each  indi 
vidual,  however  or  wherever  situated,  can  availingly  peti 
tion  the  Divine  favor  adapted  to  his  own  peculiar  need, 
and  receive  a  consoling  response  thereto,  independent  of 
outward  ceremony,  aid  or  restriction.  In  short,  silence 
is  a  season  fraught  with  extraordinary  privileges,  beneficial 
to  the  temporal  and  spiritual  welfare  of  the  whole  human 
family. 

GUARD  well  thy  lips,  for  who  can  know 
What  evil  from  the  tongue  may  flow, 
What  guilt  or  grief  may  be  incurred 
By  one  incautious,  hasty  word. 
Unkind  remarks  or  censure  wrong 
May  bring  vice  to  another's  tongue, 
Or  anguish  to  a  guileless  heart 
Unable  to  endure  the  smart. 
'Tis  not  thy  call,  contentious  man, 
Thy  fellow-brother's  faults  to  scan. 
One  task  is  thine,  and  one  alone, 
It  is  to  watch  and  check  thy  own. 
Do  this,  and  silence  will  ensue  ; 
Thou' It  find  thy  own  enough  to  do. 


MARYLAND. 

MARYLAND,  thou  land  of  sorrow, 
Where  of  yore  thy  children  sighed, 

Where  beneath  the  scourge  of  tyrants 
Groaning  slaves  for  mercy  cried  ; 


•j2  MARYLAND. 

Where,  for  love  of  shining  silver, 
Men  of  sordid  feelings  spread 

Sanction  to  a  trade  of  torture, 
Careless  of  the  hearts  that  bled. 

Careless  of  the  ties  of  nature 

Which  God  to  all  mankind  gave, 

Cruel  statesmen  framed  a  statute 
Human  beings  to  enslave. 

Oh,  the  horrors  which  that  action 
Spread  throughout  thy  wide  domain 

To  thy  name  have  brought  a  stigma 
Which  on  thee  will  long  remain. 

Years  may  pass,  but  thy  dark  errors 
Long  will  bear  their  native  stain  ; 

Hearts  and  homes  thy  customs  ravaged 
Their  sad  memories  will  retain; 

Will  record  them  to  the  coming 
Offspring  of  thy  future  years, 

Who  will  scorn  the  deeds  their. kindred 
Suffered  from  thy  vicious  snares. 

Not  they  alone,  other  nations 
Join  in  censure  and  disgust 

At  the  wrongs  of  human  bondage, 
Cruel,  wretched,  and  unjust. 

Christian  light  at  length  hath  kindled 
Her  clear  sympathetic  flame 

In  the  minds  of  modern  statesmen, 
Driving  slavery  to  shame, 


MAR  YLAND. 

Breaking  down  the  pomp  of  tyrants, 
Drying  tears  in  weeping  eyes, 

Spreading  joy  throughout  thy  borders, 
Causing  drooping  hope  to  rise. 

Brighter  days  seem  dawning  on  thee, 
Freedom  lends  her  cheering  rays 

To  the  prospect  of  the  public 
Actions  of  thy  future  days. 

Stranger  hearts  no  longer  fear  thee, 
But  seek  homesteads  on  thy  soil, 

While  the  smiles  of  happy  freedom 
Give  a  grace  to  honest  toil. 

May  thy  new-born  life  continue 
To  improve  with  growing  age, 

Till  oppression's  name  be  blotted 
From  thy  record's  varied  page. 

May  the  Lord  of  wisdom  bless  thee, 
Grant  thee  plenty,  health,  and  ease, 

Crown  thy  act  of  Christian  mercy 
With  prosperity  and  peace. 


73 


74 


GO    ON. 


GO    ON. 

PILGRIM,  shrink  not;  thou  must  go  on, 
Though  drear  thy  jouftiey  be ; 

There  is  no  tranquil  rest  upon 
The  surface  of  life's  sea; 

No  place  or  state  existeth  here 

In  which  there's  naught  to  do  or  bear. 

Go  on,  and  meekly  bear  the  weight 

Allotted  unto  thee ; 
Where'er  thou'rt  called,  what'er  thy  fate, 

Guard  'gainst  despondency; 
In  every  state,  in  every  place, 
There  is  some  cause  for  thankfulness. 

Go  on ;  thy  God  will  have  it  so. 

He  planneth  all  things  right ; 
He  gifted  thee  with  powers  to  know 

What's  pleasing  in  His  sight. 
Be  not  dismayed,  He  watcheth  well 
The  waves  that  round  thy  vessel  swell. 

Go  on,  nor  for  a  moment  dare 

To  think  He  dealeth  hard  ; 
The  more  He  giveth  thee  to  bear 

The  more  He'll  thee  reward. 
He  often  hath,  and  will  again 
Renew  thy  strength,  when  trials  reign. 


WHERE  ARE    THE  Y  NO  W ?  75 

Go  on,  until  thy  labor  here, 

'Midst  changes  smooth  and  rough, 
Is  done,  and  He  in  accents  clear 

Shall  say,  It  is  enough. 
He'll  guide  thee  safely  to  His  throne, 
And  give  thee  an  immortal  crown. 


WHERE   ARE    THEY   NOW? 

WHERE  are  the  loved  ones  who  filled  the  list 

Of  my  friends  in  happier  days  ; 
Ere  care,  woe,  and  affliction  had  taught 

Me  the  truth  of  life's  fickle  ways? 

Where  are  the  friends  with  whom  I  so  oft 
In  childhood's  bright  days  sported  free ; 

When  we  rushed  forth  from  bondage  of  school 
For  an  hour  of  frolicksome  glee  ? 

Where  are  the  friends  I  loved  to  caress 
And  commune  with  in  riper  years, 

As  we  carelessly  roamed  the  green  haunts 
Which  echoed  with  youth's  merry  cheers? 

Where  are  the  friends,  I  ask  my  lone  heart, 
Who  once  filled  our  family  hearth ; 

Sharing  my  every  sorrow  and  joy 

That  sprang  in  the  rough  path  of  earth? 

Where  are  they  now  that  I  thus  recall, 
The  various  friends  I  have  known  ? 

Methinks  memory  seems  whispering  sad, 
Alas,  they  are  scattered  and  gone  ! 


76  WHERE  ARE    THEY  NOW? 

The  gay  light-hearted  comrades  of  youth, 

The  graver  companions  of  age, 
The  partners  of  domestic  events, 

Have  all  felt  the  rude  hand  of  change. 

• 

Many  fair  ones  were  lured  by  love's  voice 
From  their  native  threshold  to  stray ; 

Others,  anxious  for  gain  or  renown, 
Are  roaming  in  lands  far  away. 

Some,  who  once  basked  in  plenty  and  ease, 
Feel  want  in  their  household  to  reign  ; 

Beauties,  blooming  with  vigor  and  health, 
Have  yielded  to  weakness  and  pain. 

On  the  brow  of  the  young  and  the  aged 
The  cold  hand  of  death  hath  been  laid  ; 

And  hearts  that  were  true,  now  are  estranged, 
Shrouding  joy  and  hope  in  deep  shade. 

A  few  loving,  long-tried,  faithful  ones, 
Still  linger  around  my  dark  way, 

Lending  helpful  enjoyment  at  times 
To  brighten  the  gloom  of  my  day. 

Thus  sad  memory  records  events 
Attending  sly  time  in  its  flight ; 

Though  her  record  is  varied  and  true, 
It  affords  me  some  thoughts  of  delight. 


KINDNESS. 


77 


KINDNESS. 

How  sweet,  when  hope  sinks  into  dejection, 

And  stern  reality  exerts  her  power, 
To  feel  the  solace  of  true  affection 

And  sympathy  attend  that  gloomy  hour 

Of  sorrow, 
Which  stripped  our  path  of  its  most  precious  flowers. 

'Tis  then  an  act  of  steadfast  devotion, 

A  tear  of  pity,  or  a  soothing  word, 
Imparts  relief  to  each  sad  emotion 

Which  trials  have  within  the  bosom  stirred, 

Preventing 
Inward  whisperings  of  peace  from  being  heard. 

The  name  and  form  of  life's  trials  differ, 
Yet  all  produce  a  pang  of  mental  pain  ; 

Each  doth  encroach  upon  some  wonted  pleasure 
The  yearning  mind  desireth  to  retain. 
Not  seeing 

Our  present  loss,  may  be  our  future  gain. 

The  pain  of  bereavement  or  affliction, 

The  burthening  weight  of  anxious  toil  and  care, 
The  anguish  of  wrath,  neglect,  and  slander, 
Lose  half  their  sting  when  pity  feels  a  share, 

Or  kindness 

Lends  to  the  heart  its  soothing  power  to  bear. 
7* 


78  TO  AD  DIE, 

Oh  that  all  would  cherish  feelings  tender, 
To  scan  and  lighten  one  another's  load; 

By  true  sympathetic  actions  render 

Support  to  fellow-travelers  on  life's  road, 
Which  leadeth 

Through  thorns  to  the  worn  spirit's  last  abode. 

Gentle  tones,  or  deeds  of  soft  compassion, 
Cost  not  the  donor  aught  he  cannot  spare ; 

He  who  receives  them  receives  a  blessing 

Which  partly  dries  the  stricken  mourner's  tear 
A  blessing 

The  child  of  sorrow  finds  not  everywhere. 


TO    AD  DIE, 

ON   HER   SIXTEENTH    BIRTHDAY. 

DEAR  girl  of  sixteen  summers,  though  far  away  from  me, 
Thy  name  I  fondly  cherish,  with  anxious  hope  for  thee. 
The  sports  of  merry  childhood  no  longer  claim  thy  care, 
Delights  of  riper  nature  thy  chief  attention  share. 
Years  of  weighty  womanhood  now  dawn  upon  thy  brow, 
With  beams  of  care  and  pleasure  that  shall  attend  thee 

now; 
Oh,  mayest  thou  shun  the  dangers  that  lurk  in  paths  of 

youth, 
'Neath  tints  of  pleasing  colors,  to  tempt  thee  from  the 

truth. 

The  sun  of  sixteen  summers  has  rolled  above  thy  head, 
And  of  thy  young  companions  another  one  has  fled: 


TO  ADDIE. 


79 


She  whom  thee  loved  so  dearly,  on  April's  eighteenth  day, 
Was  called  to  leave  her  kindred,  and  pass  from  earth  away. 
She  was  not  only  willing  to  leave  this  world  of  woe, 
But  patiently  awaited  the  time  when  she  might  go, — 
When  she  might  cease  to  suffer  disease's  painful  power, 
Which  did  continue  heavy  until  her  latest  hour. 
She  was,  my  dearest  Addie,  the  second  friend  of  thine 
Whom  death  has  called  so  early  to  quit  the  scenes  of  time  ; 
The  sun  of  sixteen  summers,  the  winds  of  sixteen  springs, 
Thus  blighted  hopes  thee  cherished  'neath  youth's  decep 
tive  wings ; 

Oh,  may  it  teach  thee  wisdom  the  present  to  improve, 
And  not  neglect  in  season  to  place  thy  hopes  above ; 
That,  when  the  clouds  of  sorrow  shall  darkly  hover  near, 
Thou' It  have  a  stable  anchor  thy  wounded  mind  to  cheer. 
Affliction,  care,  and  trouble  attend  our  earthly  way, 
But  Christ  our  great  Redeemer  will  prove  a  certain  stay ; 
If  we  rely  upon  Him,  and  strive  to  do  His  will, 
He  every  gracious  promise  will  unto  us  fulfil. 
Should  sixteen  years  in  future  strew  pleasures  in  thy  way 
More  lasting  than  attended  thy  childhood's  transient  day, 
Forget  not  all  the  lessons  the  past  hath  offered  thee, 
But  strive  to  bear  misfortunes  with  patient  dignity, 
That  when  thy  toils  are  over,  thy  spirit's  warfare  ceased, 
Thou'lt  join  thy  friends  in  Heaven  to  live  in  endless  peace; 
There  to  be  of  the  number  the  sinless  Lamb  of  God 
Hath  cleansed  from  innate  error,  and  purchased  with  His 
blood. 


8o  EVIL    THOUGHTS  ARE  SIN. 


EVIL  THOUGHTS  ARE   SIN. 

EVIL  thoughts  are  sin,  said  a  piously-minded  old 
woman,  while  endeavoring  to  impart  some  religious  in 
struction  to  her  little  nephew,  who  stood  by  her  bed  near 
the  close  of  her  last  sickness.  Although  the  remark  was 
intended  to  suit  the  immature  comprehension  of  a  child, 
it  bears  sufficient  weight  to  convey  an  important  lesson  to 
more  experienced  minds.  It  is  well  known  that  the  whole 
human  family  naturally  possess  more  or  less  of  what  are 
termed  the  animal  propensities  of  mankind,  which  alter 
nately  rise  beyond  their  ordinary  limits,  and  produce  a 
variety  of  evil  thoughts,  actions,  and  consequences  ;  yet 
so  shortsighted  is  finite  nature,  and  so  general  the  preva 
lence  of  those  errors,  that  we  are  rarely  sensible  of  the  real 
sinfulness  of  their  existence.  No  careful  observer  can 
deny  trifling  amusements,  disdainful  deportment,  dis 
honorable  dealings,  erroneous  suspicions,  harsh  tones,  dis 
respectful  expressions,  cherished  enmity,  direct  and  in 
direct  injuries,  and  needless  murmurs,  are  our  common 
attendants  in  life,  which  on  serious  reflection  must  be 
acknowledged  as  errors  resulting  from  a  spirit  of  levity, 
pride,  avarice,  jealousy,  wrath,  strife,  malice,  resentment, 
or  fretfulness,  and  furnish  confirming  evidence  of  the  ex 
istence  of  improper  thoughts. 

Surely,  every  unprejudiced  mind  will  agree  with  me,  in 
thinking  whatever  is  improper  is  wrong,  whatever  is  wrong 
is  evil,  whatever  is  evil  is  sinful ;  therefore  evil  thoughts 
are  sin,  because  they  proceed  from  and  strengthen  a  dis 
position  which  is  absolutely  incompatible  with  the  pre 
cepts  of  the  Holy  Scriptures. 


SEARCH  THE  SCRIPTURES.  gl 

It  matters  not  by  which  one  of  our  evil  propensities  we 
are  influenced,  thoughts  arising  therefrom  are  of  an  evil 
character,  and  have  a  demoralizing  tendency,  their  preva 
lence  being  calculated  to  encourage  temptations,  frustrate 
the  confirmation  of  good  impressions,  impede  the  exercise 
of  virtuous  resolutions,  destroy  a  relish  for  instructive 
entertainments,  and  prevent  us  from  discerning  the  actual 
sinfulness  of  our  course,  by  hardening  our  spirits,  and 
darkening  our  perception  of  the  inward  pointings  of 
Divine  grace.  The  indulgence  of  evil  thoughts  begets  in 
us  a  habit  of  unprofitable  meditation,  whereby  time, 
talents^  and  opportunities  are  wasted  instead  of  being  im 
proved,  as  they  should  be,  by  our  devoting  them  to  noble 
pursuits,  beneficial  to  ourselves  or  others,  for  which  pur 
pose  we  were  created,  and  will  be  required  to -render  an 
account  to  the  Author  of  our  lives  when  called  to  exchange 
time  for  eternity. 


SEARCH   THE    SCRIPTURES. 

Go  search  that  book  of  Holy  Writ, 

It  testifies  of  Him 
Who  is  the  Way,  the  Truth,  the  Life, 

That  leadeth  us  from  sin. 

Go  search  that  book,  it  clearly  shows 

He  is  the  only  door 
Through  which  poor  erring  man  can  hope 

To  find  redeeming  power. 

Go  search  that  book,  it  testifies 

He  is  the  Lamb  of  God, 
D* 


82  ROW   YOUR    OWN  CANOE. 

Who  came  to  cleanse  us  from  our  sins 
By  His  atoning  blood. 

Go  search  that  book,  -it  teaches  us 
We  must  endure  the  cross, 

Deny  our  innate  love  of  wrong, 
Lest  our  soul's  peace  be  lost. 

Go  search  that  book,  its  pages  glow 

With  promises  supreme ; 
Of  hope  and  wisdom,  love  and  power, 

Through  Jesus'  holy  name. 


ROW    YOUR   OWN    CANOE. 

SOUL,  covet  not  thy  neighbor's  gorgeous  store, 

Nor  envyjiim  his  luxuries  or"bliss, 
No  shelter  seek  within  another's  door, 

On  other's  aid  depend  not  for  success; 
But  plunge  thyself  into  the  stream  of  toil, 
With  firm  resolve  to  let  no  trifle  foil 
Thy  efforts  to  obtain  the  prize  in  view, 
And  independent  row  thy  own  canoe. 

Thy  God  according  to  His  wisdom  hath 

Endowed  thee  with  a  share  of  noble  powers, 

Although  thy  lot  be  cast  within  a  path 

Where  fortune  hath  not  strewn  her  brilliant  flowers ; 

Wouldst  thou  ascend  to  splendor's  gaudy  throne, 

Such  as  thou  seest  others  proudly  own, 

Pain  not  thy  life  with  envious  desires, 

But  urge  thy  powers  to  what  thy  heart  aspires. 


ROW   YOUR    OWN  CANOE.  83 

Thou  art  as  able  to  attain  to  skill 

As  they  who  labored  with  success  before ; 
As  able  some  important  task  to  fill 

As  they  who  opened  hidden  themes  of  yore. 
With  patient  energy  thy  powers  apply 
To  reach  the  state  for  which  thou  dost  most  sigh, 
Nor  idly  rest  with  envying  those  who  seem 
Blest  with  a  smoother  voyage  down  life's  stream. 

By  self-exertion  only  thou  canst  know 

A  certain  pathway  to  success  or  feme ; 
A  welcome  shelter  in  this  world  of  woe, 

Freedom  from  selfish  prejudice  or  blame. 
Although  thou  thinkest  some  have  hoards  to  spare, 
Think  not  they  wish  those  hoards  with  thee  to  share, 
Farther  than  make  thee  pleasantly  their  guest, 
Then  leave  thee  to  thyself  to  work  the  rest. 

Wouldst  thou  possess  thy  neighbor's  favored  lot 
Waste  not  thy  days  in  sighing  after  gain  ; 

But  with  good  resolution  dally  not 

To  launch  thy  bark  upon  adventure's  main. 

Wait  not  for  aid,  depend  on  naught  but  self, 

And  Heaven's  blessing,  to  secure  thy  pelf; 

[n  time  thou'lt  win  ;  though  fortunes  gather  slow, 

They're  sure  to  those  who  row  their  own  canoe. 


84  BEREA  VEMENT  AND   CONSOLA  TION. 


BEREAVEMENT  AND  CONSOLATION. 

ALAS  !  how  sad  I  often  feel 

In  my  dark,  silent  state, 
While  those  around  me  can  enjoy 

Each  other's  friendly  chat  ! 

They  sport  and  jest  in  merry  turn, 

Or  talk  in  graver  tone ; 
While  I  though  present  have  to  sit 

Silent,  as  if  alone. 

The  beauty  of  earth's  richest  dyes, 

The  sunset's  milder  rays, 
The  rainbow  tints,  and  star-lit  skies, 

Are  hidden  from  my  gaze. 

Disease  hath  partly  closed  my  ear, 

Quite  robbed  my  eye  of  sight ; 
Grace,  Faith,  and  Hope  are  most  that  now 

Lend  my  drear  pathway  light. 

My  fate  seems  hard  to  human  choice, 

And  wounded  nature's  tear 
Unbidden  falls  upon  my  cheek 

To  tell  the  woes  I  bear. 

But,  oh,  how  weak  to  thus  consent 

O'er  transient  ills  to  brood, 
Since  I  am  told  that  whom  God  loves 

He  chastens  for  their  good  ! 


BEREA  VEMENT  AND   CONSOLA  TION.  85 

He  doth  not  willingly  afflict 

Nor  grieve  is  child  ren  here, 

'Tis  but  to  break  the  power  of  sin 

And  wean  us  from  this  sphere. 

Shall  I  defeat  His  wise  design 

And  waste  my  days  in  tears, 
Ungrateful  for  remaining  gifts 

Which  He  in  mercy  spares  ? 

Ah,  no,  I'll  cherish  faith  and  hope, 

And  strive  to  kiss  the  rod 
He  hath  applied  to  turn  my  feet 

From  error's  fatal  road. 

Although  my  outward  path  is  dark, 

And  almost  silent  too, 
My  mental  eye  and  ear  retain 

Their  power  His  will  to  know. 

These  precious  gifts  were  surely  meant 

To  be  employed  in  ways 
More  noble  and  instructive  than 

Deploring  gloomy  days. 

While  reason  doth  retain  her  throne 

I  have  a  work  to  do, — 
A  work  important  to  myself 

And  to  my  Maker  due. 

Would  I  devote  my  time  and  mind 

More  fully  to  His  will, 
My  thoughts  would  be  absorbed  in  themes 

That  would  my  sorrows  still. 
8 


86  BEREAVEMENT  AND    CONSOLATION. 

My  mental  eye  could  then  behold 
The  wisdom  He  hath  planned, 

The  strength  of  His  sustaining  power, 
And  mercy  of  His  hand. 

My  mental  ear  could  hear  His  voice 
The  work  and  way  proclaim, 

Wherein  He'd  have  my  spirit  toil 
And  magnify  His  name. 

I  would  advance  His  righteous  cause, 
Would  tread  the  narrow  way  ; 

But  feeble  nature  will  rebel 
And  lure  me  far  astray. 

I  know  that's  why  I  often  muse 

Unhappy  o'er  my  fate  ; 
I  know  that's  why  I  fail  to  win 

The  joys  of  priceless  weight. 

Yet  I  will  ask  my  Father,  Lord, 
To  deal  with  feelings  mild, 

And  listen  patient  to  the  cries 
Of  His  unworthy  child. 

I'll  ask  for  strength  to  meekly  bow 

And  trust  in  Him  alone, 
Till  plants  of  peace  shall  spring  in  me 

From  seeds  in  sorrow  sown. 


MARRIAGE.  87 


MARRIAGE. 

THE  wedding  is  over,  the  bride  and  bridegroom 

Are  bound  to  each  other  through  sunshine  and  gloom; 

Their  lot  is  the  same,  they  together  must  brave 

The  calms  and  the  tempests  on  Time's  changeful  wave; 

The  misfortunes  of  one  the  other  must  share, 

With  frailties  of  mind  they  alike  have  to  bear. 

Yet  solemnly  binding  as  marriage  appears, 

The  bridegroom  and  bride  seem  devoid  of  all  fears ; 

They  flourish  and  sport  as  if  sorrow  or  strife 

Could  ne'er  reach  their  bark  on  the  ocean  of  life; 

Their  short-tried  devotion  suspects  not  the  weight 

Of  changes  and  trials  awaiting  their  fate ; 

The  nuptial's  gay  scenes  dazzle  their  present  sight 

From  dangers  which  lurk  in  the  future's  dim  light. 

Alas  !  wedded  couple,  although  you  begin 

Your  journey  with  joy,  thorns  too  soon  will  spring  in; 

Fond  as  your  hearts  are  you  will  find,  ere  you  sail 

Many  years,  rough  winds  your  joined  voyage  assail ; 

Your  partnership's  march  will  not  always  afford 

Entire  unison  of  thought,  action,  or  word  ; 

Pursuits  and  opinions  delightful  to  one 

Will  oft  be  of  a  cast  the  other  would  shun. 

Censure,  opposition,  and  wrath  will  ascend 

To  a  height  that  will  your  affections  offend  ; 

Beauty's  blooming  cheek  and  youth's  strong,  active  form 

With  time's  burdening  cares  will  lose  their  power  to  charm. 

Think  not  you  can  always  with  patience  endure 

And  smile  beneath  clouds  which  your  prospects  obscure ; 


88  MARRIAGE 

Will  always  be  ready  kind  actions  to  lend, 

Or  soft-spoken  words,  when  afflictions  attend. 

Think  not,  though  you  promise  before  God  above 

Until  death  each  other  to  cherish  and  love, 

You  always  will  strive  to  hold  sacred  this  vow 

And  amidst  earth's  crosses  love  fondly  as  now. 

Ah,  no,  be  assured  human  strength  is  too  frail 

To  stand  on  the  watch-tower  when  trials  prevail ; 

No  mind  is  so  perfect,  so  prudent,  or  true, 

As  to  constantly  keep  life's  duties  in  view ; 

No  love  is  so  pure  that  impatience,  neglect, 

Will  not  rise  at  times  e'en  toward  those  we  respect; 

No  path  is  so  smooth  that  misfortune  or  pain 

Doth  not  o'er  its  surface  successively  reign. 

Therefore  events  likely  to  darken  your  day 

Are  but  common  attendants  on  time's  varied  way; 

They're  not  confined  solely  to  one,  but  to  all, 

The  fruit  they  produce  is  offensive  as  gall. 

The  beautiful  language  of  the  marriage  vow 

Shields  not  from  these  shadows  the  sensitive  brow ; 

So  humble  your  feelings,  and  solemnly  pray 

To  keep  the  promise  made  on  your  wedding-day. 


DEPENDENCY.  89 


DEPENDENCY. 

NONE  except  those  who  have  been  tried  can  imagine 
how  saddening  it  is  to  human  feelings  to  be  dependent, 
nor  how  sharp  the  sting  of  apparently  trifling  consequences 
frequently  resulting  therefrom.  It  matters  not  in  what 
manner  we  are  dependent  nor  by  what  peculiar  means  we 
become  so ;  if  we  are  unable  to  help  ourselves  in  either  a 
physical  or  pecuniary  sense,  our  way  is  generally  fraught 
with  many  lamentable  crosses,  perplexing  impediments 
and  disappointments,  being  in  such  a  state  compelled  to 
submit  to  the  willingness  or  convenience  of  others  in 
accomplishing  our  inclinations,  however  gratifying  or. im 
portant  the  accomplishment  of  such  inclinations  would  be 
to  our  natural  dispositions.  Dependency  is  a  fate  calcu 
lated  to  render  us  unwelcome  guests,  not  only  to  general 
society,  but  in  many  instances  to  private  kindred  ;  it  also 
frequently  subjects  us  to  much  uncharitable  reproach,  in 
different  treatment,  envied  favors,  and  touching  replies 
from  persons  of  whom  we  hopefully  solicit  assistance. 
Consequently  no  sympathetic  mind  who  seriously  reflects 
on  these  truths,  of  which  many  among  the  aged,  the 
afflicted,  and  the  poor  can  experimentally  testify,  can 
find  any  reasonable  ground  for  surprise  at  diffidence,  dis 
couragement,  or  even  depression  being  the  prevailing 
spirit  of  those  who  are  unfortunately  doomed  to  experi 
ence  the  trials  commonly  attending  a  state  of  dependency. 

8* 


9o 


THE   RUSSET  ROOM. 


THE   RUSSET  ROOM. 

WITHIN  a  small  and  russet  room, 

Upon  a  downy  bed, 
A  lonely  pilgrim  oft  reclined 

Her  weary,  aching  head. 

There  oft,  when  midnight's  shadows  cast 

A  sable  gloom  around, 
That  pilgrim  in  her  russet  room 

A  secret  comfort  found. 

Although  remote  from  human  gaze 

She  did  not  feel  alone, 
The  presence  of  the  One  on  high 

With  clearness  round  her  shone. 

By  humble  faith  her  mental  eye 

Beheld  His  love  and  might, 
Whereon  her  spirit  could  rely 

Through  trial's  darkest  night. 

She  saw  her  every  woe  and  care 

He  did  with  pity  view ; 
She  heard  Him  whisper,  "Trust  and  hope, 

I  tried  thy  journey  through, 

Each  shoal  is  known  unto  thy  guide, 
No  storms  shall  overwhelm  j 


RAINY  DA  YS. 

Keep  on  thy  course,  nor  turn  aside, 
Thy  Master's  at  the  helm." 

Cheered  by  such  sweet  companionship 
Midst  scenes  of  deepest  shade, 

"Although  alone,  I'm  not  alone," 
That  trusting  pilgrim  said. 

No  wealth  or  aught  we  may  acquire, 
In  paths  of  light  and  bloom, 

Can  yield  the  joy  that  pilgrim  found 
Within  her  russet  room. 


RAINY   DAYS. 

IT  matters  not  how  much  the  earth 

Needs  warm,  refreshing  showers, 
To  give  to  vegetation  birth, 

Or  cherish  drooping  flowers ; 
It  matters  not  how  long  or  bright 

The  sun  hath  lent  its  rays, 
We  mostly  grow  dissatisfied 

With  a  few  rainy  days. 

The  raindrops  on  our  neat  attire, 

The  chill  of  clouded  air, 
The  prevalence  of  dirt  and  mire 

Abounding  everywhere, 
Restriction  from  our  wonted  joy 

'Midst  nature's  haunts  to  stray, 
All  tend  our  feelings  to  annoy 

Upon  a  rainy  day. 


92 


RAINY  DA  VS. 

Our  present  inconvenience  is 

The  chief  that  claims  our  thought, 
Unmindful  of  the  future  bliss 

With  which  dark  hours  are  fraught ; 
The  fields  which  yield  our  daily  bread, 

The  fount  our  thirst  allays, 
Would  fail  their  services  to  lend 

Were  there  no  rainy  days. 

Misfortunes,  sorrow,  sickness,  wrong, 

Neglect,  contempt,  and  wrath, 
In  alternate  succession  throng 

Across  our  earthly  path. 
So  much  they  darken  hopes  that  smiled, 

Make  toilsome,  rough,  our  way, 
Their  prevalence  may  well  be  styled 

The  spirit's  rainy  day. 

Although  these  trials  do  appear, 

To  our  short-sighted  view, 
Like  floods  and  tempests  hard  to  bear 

And  deep  to  buffet  through, 
They  kindly  serve  as  helpful  showers 

To  rescue  from  decay 
The  feeble  roots  of  noble  powers 

Which  need  grief's  rainy  day. 

'Tis  needed  to  invigorate 

Us  in  some  wise  pursuit, 
Transform  us  to  a  proper  state 

To  show  forth  perfect  fruit; 
For  like  the  outward  fount  and  field 

Which  nature's  wants  allay, 
Spirits  would  little  virtue  yield 

Without  a  rainy  day. 


THE  MERRY  MAN. 

Constant  success  or  pleasure  would 

Soon  parch,  the  mental  soil, 
Wither  its  growing  plants  of  good, 

Their  happy  products  foil; 
So  callous  is  the  human  heart, 

So  prone  to  erring  ways, 
So  slow  to  choose  the  better  part 

While  spared  from  rainy  days. 

But,  oh,  when  sharp  affliction  doth 

Oppress,  or  joys  are  flown 
From  us,  how  thrifty  is  the  growth 

Of  seeds  in  sorrow  sown ! 
Our  softened  wills  can  then  submit 

To  aught  God's  grace  displays, 
And  ask  for  strength  to  meekly  meet 

Our  spirit's  rainy  days. 


93 


THE    MERRY   MAN. 

"I  DO  not  intend  to  ever  grow  old," 

Said  a  merry-hearted  man  of  three-score, 

Little  thinking  his  strong  form  would  lie  cold 
Ere  another  short  six  months  should  roll  o'er. 

No,  he  did  not  intend  to  e'er  grow  old, 
But  enjoy  what  he  termed  innocent  mirth, 

Till  called  to  follow  the  messenger  bold 
And  bid  adieu  to  the  pleasures  of  earth. 

Though  this  he  resolved,  he  could  not  escape 

From  the  grasp  by  which  he  was  from  life  hurled; 


94 


THE  MERRY  MAN. 


He  in  usual  health  at  night  fell  asleep, 

But  ere  morn  dawned  woke  in  the  spirit  world. 

The  wisdom  or  folly  of  his  resolve 

Is  neither  my  business  nor  wish  to  scan, 

But  needful  it  seems  while  moments  revolve 
I  should  be  more  grave  than  that  merry  man. 

Methinks  I  perceive  no  sporting  of  mind 

Can  shield  me  from  the  weight  of  years  or  pain, 

Nor  prepare  me  eternal  bliss  to  find 

When  my  dust  shall  return  to  dust  again. 

'Tis  certain  one  final  summons  will  come 

Sooner  or  later  to  each  human  form; 
None  of  us  know  whether  reason  or  gloom 

Will  attend  us  amid  Nature's  last  storm. 

None  of  us  know  we'll  have  time  to  review 
Or  repent  the  past  at  that  solemn  hour; 

Prepared  or  not,  when  commanded  to  go, 
We  must  yield  our  all  to  the  spoiler's  power. 

Then  how  needful  it  is  we  should  employ 

Our  talents  and  time  in  serious  ways, 
If  we  would  secure  a  prospect  of  joy 

Should  death  touch  our  brows  in  unconscious  days. 


LIFE. 


95 


LIFE. 

LIFE  is  a  varied  scene  below, 

Of  storm  and  sunshine,  weal  and  woe, 

A  scene  where  disappointments  frown, 

A  scene  where  hope  oft  wins  a  crown, 

A  scene  of  anxious  care  and  guile, 

A  scene  where  friend  lends  friend  a  smile, 

A  scene  of  mingled  strife  and  love, 

A  scene  displaying  power  above, 

A  scene  that's  fraught  with  wonders  great, 

Evincing  there's  a  future  state. 

Life  is  a  scene  of  frequent  change 
No  constant  state  aught  can  arrange ; 
Life  is  one  general  revolve 
AVhose  mysteries  no  time  shall  solve. 
Youth  turns  to  age,  the  great 's  made  small, 
The  poor  grow  rich,  the  haughty  fall, 
The  spoiler  conquers  strongest  health 
Without  regard  to  age  or  wealth  ; 
All  things  sustained  by  nature's  breath 
In  time  must  yield  their  life  to  death.    , 

Life  is  the  time  God  hath  given 
To  prepare  the  soul  for  heaven  ; 
No  other  time  is  thine,  vain  man, 
Thy  spirit's  future  life  to  scan  ; 
No  other  time  to  choose  the  road 
Which  bears  thee  on  to  ill  or  good. 


96  HOPE. 

Whate'er  thy  choice,  that  choice  will  be 
The  portion  measured  back  to  thee ; 
One  journey  through  this  vale  of  strife 
Is  man's  allotted  span  of  life. 


HOPE. 

DESPONDING  pilgrim,  art  thou  also  one  of  the  distrust 
ful,  murmuring  throng,  who  regardest  Hope  as  a  flattering 
deceiver,  calculated  only  to  mislead  the  sanguine  or  blind 
in  their  perception  of  approaching  realities?  Although 
thou  canst  with  propriety  testify  of  indiscreet  undertakings 
and  grievous  disappointments  having  resulted  from  what 
thou  seemest  to  consider  Hope's  false  pretenses,  couldst 
thou  recall  every  circumstance  of  the  past  and  ponder  its 
entire  proceedings,  thou  wouldst  discover  thy  judgment 
had  on  many  occasions  been  misled  more  by  thy  own 
unsubdued  anxieties  than  by  any  flattering  promises  of 
Hope.  Therefore,  be  cautious  ere  thou  disregardest  the 
efficacy  of  a  virtue  so  essential  to  thy  comfort  as  Hope  is 
during  thy  earthly  pilgrimage. 

In  passing  through  life  we  witness  numberless  instances 
in  which  persons  deceive  themselves,  mistaking  their  own 
preferred  desires  for  hopeful  prospects;  while  others, 
whose  interests  are  less  absorbed  in  the  matter,  can  clearly 
perceive  there  is  no  reasonable  ground  in  such  cases  for 
expecting  success.  Thus  disappointments  frequently  arise 
from  indulging  imaginations  too  sanguine  to  be  realized. 

Thy  short-sighted  nature  may  often  be  sadly  disap 
pointed  in  this  manner  until  repeated  disappointments 
have  made  thee  sensible  of  thy  own  weakness,  when  thou 


HOPE. 


97 


canst  acknowledge  the  wisdom  that  spared  thee  from  a 
foresight  of  impending  trials,  knowing  the  weight  of  their 
realities  was  quite  enough  for  human  strength  without 
being  prematurely  afflicted  with  them  in  anticipation. 
Alarm,  discouragement,  or  repining  would  be  the  certain 
result  of  such  forebodings.  Consequently,  ignorance  of 
future  ills  awaiting  us  renders  life's  path  much  smoother 
to  shrinking  nature  than  it  would  otherwise  be.  Decep 
tive  as  thou  mayest  consider  Hope's  seeming  flatteries  to 
be,  her  plans  are  wisely  adapted  to  thy  weakness,  lending 
light,  by  her  encouraging  rays,  to  many  dark  spots  in  thy 
pathway,  and  preventing  thee  from  falling  a  victim  to  un 
timely  despair.  As  the  light  and  warmth  of  the  sun  in 
vigorate  vegetation,  so  the  cheering  influence  of  Hope 
enables  man  to  perform  the  various  duties  allotted  to  his 
attention  in  life. 

Hope  excites  the  aspiring  student  to  persevere  amidst 
discouragements  in  important  discoveries  and  inventions. 
Hope  stimulates  the  wearied  laborer  to  toil  cheerfully  for 
the  reward  of  plenty.  Hope  prompts  the  bereft,  sorrow- 
stricken  mourner  to  seek  Divine  aid  and  support.  Hope 
points  the  vision  of  the  afflicted  sufferer  towards  prospect 
ive  reliefer  recovery.  Hope  inclines  the  penitent  sinner 
to  trust  in  promises  of  forgiveness  and  redemption.  Hope 
cheers  the  dying  Christian  with  whispers  of  light  and  peace 
awaiting  him  beyond  the  tomb.  In  short,  Hope  may  be 
justly  styled  an  anchor  of  the  soul,  capable  of  affording 
strength  and  consolation  to  the  latest  rational  period  of 
life. 

How  oft  in  trial's  fearful  hour, 

When  cherished  joys  are  from  us  torn, 

When  clouds  of  dark  affliction  lower 
And  disappointed  spirits  mourn, 
E  9 


98  WHEREON  MAY  WE   RELY? 

We  cannot  see  one  cheering  ray 
From  Hope's  exalted  altar  thrown, 

Nor  e'en  believe  her  friendly  sway, 
Her  rnagic  power  we  scorn  to  own. 

Deceptive  as  thou  art,  vain  Hope, 

Thy  name  is  ever  dear  to  me ; 
Thy  power  enables  man  to  grope 

His  way  across  Time's  changeful  sea,— 
Thy  beams  illume  affliction's  night, 

Thy  smiles  cheer  weary  pilgrims  on, 
Thy  whispers  breathe  of  peace  and  light 

In  store  when  trial's  work  is  done. 

Thou  art  a  friend,  a  helpful  friend, 

The  offspring  of  the  Christian's  faith, 
Sustaining  weak  ones  to  the  end, 

Removing  all  the  sting  of  death. 
Thou  art  a  star  whose  radiance  clear 

Can  penetrate  the  deepest  gloom, — 
A  star  dispersing  every  fear 

That  shades  our  passage  to  the  tomb. 


WHEREON   MAY   WE    RELY? 

TELL  me,  thou  man  of  years,  if  thou  hast  found 
In  all  thy  search  a  state  secure  from  woe, 

A  place  where  lasting  joy  or  ease  abound, 
Where  words  of  wrath  or  censure  never  flow. 


WHEREON  MA  Y  WE  REL  Y? 

Tell  me  if  thou  hast  seen  one  glad,  bright  eye 
That  ne'er  was  dimmed  by  disappointment's  tear; 

If  thou  hast  known  a  mind  of  talents  high 

That  ne'er  was  forced  to  part  with  treasures  dear. 

I  ask  thee,  too,  whereon  we  may  rely 

For  strength  to  bear  in  trial's  gloomy  hour, 

When  clouds  of  dark  misfortune  hover  nigh, 

When  weakness,  wrong,  or  pain,  exert  their  power. 

r 

Methinks  the  sage-like  man  with  feeble  tread 
Calmly  replies  in  accents  such  as  these  : 

"  I  have  through  many  tedious  years  been  led, 
Yet  found  no  place  of  lasting  joy  or  ease. 

"  No  mind  exempt  from  smitten  ties  or  pain, 
No  state  secure  from  passion's  angry  blow, 

No  eye  that  hath  not  wept  o'er  griefs  that  stain 
The  beauty  of  life's  pathway  here  below. 

"  But,  youthful  friend,  I  must  confess  I've  found 

An  anchor  strong  and  steadfast  to  the  soul, 
t      Whereon  I  can  rely  when  ills  abound, 

Or  sorrow's  frightful  billows  roughly  roll. 

"  Though  earth  affords  no  safe  abiding-place 
Where  weary  spirits  may  be  free  from  fear, 

Jesus,  the  pilgrim's  Friend,  can  by  His  grace 

Grant  us  faith,  patience,  hope,  while  toiling  here : 

"Faith  to  believe  He  sees  our  every  woe, 
Faith  to  believe  He  doeth  all  things  right, 

Faith  to  believe  He'll  guide  us  safely  through, 
Patience  and  hope  to  make  our  burdens  light. 


99 


loo  BEAUTIFUL. 

"His  grace  is  offered  to  all  human  hearts, 
Shows  fainting  mortals  where  to  look  for  aid; 

The  soothing  power  His  gift  of  faith  imparts 
Lends  help  to  bear  the  trials  on  us  laid. 

"  On  Him  alone  we  may  rely  through  all 
The  changeful  storms  that  may  obscure  life's  road  ; 

To  Him  alone  we  may  in  weakness  call 

For  strength  to  bow  unto  His  chastening  rod. 

"  By  Him  alone  the  humble  strive  to  grope 
Their  way  unto  the  spirit's  promised  land  ; 

Through  Him  alone  can  erring  beings  hope 
Before  the  Father's  throne  faultless  to  stand." 


BEAUTIFUL. 

'Tis  sweet  in  years  of  sunny  youth, 

Undimmed  by  disappointment's  blight, 

To  have  inward  teachings  of  truth 
Clearly  revealed  to  mental  sight. 

'Tis  sweet  to  see  the  young  and  strong 

Prefer  the  right  and  shun  the  wrong, 

Showing  a  conscientious  fear 

Of  Him  to  whom  all  things  appear. 
Surely  it  is  beautiful 

To  see  the  Lord  thus  honored  here. 

'Tis  sweet  in  trial's  gloomy  hour, 
"When  ill  on  ill  falls  to  our  share, 

When  sharp  affliction's  weakening  power 
Seems  almost  more  than  we  can  bear, 


BEAUTIFUL.  Ioi 

To  feel  we  have  an  earthly  friend 
On  whom  for  aid  we  can  depend, — 
A  friend  who  strives  our  minds  to  stay 
And  smooth  by  sympathy  our  way, 

Making  life's  walk  beautiful 
Though  clouds  obscure  at  times  our  day. 

But  sweeter  far  when  grief  prevails, 
And  nature  sinks  beneath  its  weight, 

To  feel  God's  mercy  never  fails 
To  be  sufficient  for  our  state  ; 

To  feel  through  faith  He'll  condescend 

To  own  our  trials  to  the  end  ; 

He'll  grant  us  strength  to  trust  His  word 

Or  say,  Thy  will  be  done,  dear  Lord. 
Soul,  is  this  not  beautiful, 

And  worthy  thy  care  to  record  ? 

No  sweeter  feeling  can  we  ask 

Than  resignation  to  our  fate, 
Strength  to  perform  each  meted  task, 

Support  beneath  oppression's  weight. 
The  value  of  a  patient  mind, 
By  faith  sustained,  by  grace  refined, 
Surpasses  brightest  jewels  known 
To  deck  a  monarch's  brow  or  throne, 

And  is  deemed  more  beautiful 
By  Him  who  heeds  the  spirit's  moan. 


102      LINES   ON  THE  DEATH  OF  S.  L.  MOORE. 


LINES  ON  THE   DEATH  OF  S.  L.  MOORE. 

LITTLE,  dearest,  prattling  creature, 

Why  thus  early  haste  away  ? 
Why  thus  early  pay  to  nature 

That  great  debt  which  all  must  pay? 

Didst  thou  find  this  world  unworthy, 

Unworthy  of  thy  longer  stay? 
Or  did  thy  Maker,  judging  for  thee, 

Bid  thee  to  the  realms  of  day  ? 

Yes,  dear  child,  'twas  He  removed  thee 

From  this  changeful  state  below, 
Ere  thy  young  mind  knew  the  trials 

Of  bereavement,  pain,  or  woe. 

Ere  thy  fair  brow  had  been  clouded 

By  the  burdening  cares  of  time  ; 
Ere  thy  little  feet  had  trodden 

Rugged  paths  of  toil  or  crime. 

Ere  thy  parents'  hearts  were  saddened 

By  transgression  in  their  boy, 
He  called  thee  to  scenes  immortal, 

Scenes  of  perfect  life  and  joy. 


LINES   ON  THE  DEATH  OF  S.  L.  MOORE. 

His  watchful  eye  foresaw  dangers 
Gathering  round  thy  future  years, 

Marked  thy  inward  course  of  nature, 
Bore  thee  from  a  world  of  tears. 

Happy  spirit,  early  rescued 

From  the  luring  snares  of  life, 
Hover  near  thy  mourning  parents, 

Cheer  them  through  this  vale  of  strife. 

Show  thy  father  how  unstable 

Are  the  ways  of  erring  men  ; 
How,  without  the  scourge  of  sorrow, 

We  would  choose  the  path  of  sin. 

How  the  Lord  of  mercy  sendeth 

Smitten  joys  in  kind  disguise, 
To  turn  us  from  wonted  error, 

Turn  our  longings  toward  the  skies. 

He  sees  wayward  footsteps  straying 
From  the  strait  and  narrow  road, 

Sends  His  rod  of  sharp  correction 
Lest  we  fail  to  reach  our  God. 

May  His  wise  designs  preserve  us 
From  the  power  of  Satan's  snare, 

Teach  our  troubled  souls  to  love  Him, 
Fit  us  for  a  life  of  prayer  ! 

That  when  death  his  work  has  finished, 

And  our  earthly  race  is  o'er, 
We  may  live  with  Him  in  glory, 

Praise  His  name  for  evermore. 


103 


104 


LET  ME  SEE  HIM   ONCE  MORE. 


LET   ME   SEE   HIM   ONCE   MORE. 

"LET  me  see  him  once  more,"  a  fond  father  said, 

As  he  anxiously  turned  to  the  place 
Where  the  pride  of  his  home  unconsciously  lay 

In  the  stillness  of  death's  cold  embrace. 

"Let  me  see  him  once  more,"  that  fond  father  sighed, 

When  the  coffin  was  ready  to  close 
O'er  the  brow  of  the  boy,  who  oft  by  his  side 

Had  in  frolic  much  lightened  life's  woes. 

None  denied  the  request,  but,  ah  !  that  last  gaze 

On  the  features  of  his  cherub-child 
Could  not  restore  warmth  to  the  cold,  pallid  face, 

Which  so  lately  with  beauty  had  smiled. 

His  sleep  was  too  deep  for  a  grieved  father's  moan 
To  e'er  rouse  him  to  consciousness  here; 

His  person  remained,  but  his  spirit  had  flown 
Where  no  mortal  sound  could  reach  his  ear. 

Though  the  coffin  and  grave  now  hide  the  fair  form 
Of  that  loved  boy  from  his  father's  sight, 

He  forever  is  safe  from  sorrow  or  harm, 
In  a  world  of  endless  joy  and  light. 

With  angels  and  saints  he  in  Paradise  stands, 

God's  presence  through  ages  to  adore; 
And  beckons  his  kindred  to  that  happy  land 

Where  his  father  may  see  him  once  more. 


THOUGHTS  AFTER  A   RELIGIOUS  MEETING. 

Once  more,  when  affliction,  misfortune,  and  strife 

Shall  no  longer  the  spirit  annoy, 
His  father  may  see  him  an  heir  of  new  life, 

And  be  parted  no  more  from  his  boy. 


THOUGHTS    AFTER    ATTENDING    A 
RELIGIOUS    MEETING. 

UNTO  the  house  of  prayer  I've  been  once  more, 
And  heard  glad  tidings  spoken,  as  of  yore ; 
I  heard  : — that  God  is  with  me,  and  will  be 
A  strength  in  weakness,  all  things  unto  me. 
'Tis  He  alone  can  still  life's  raging  wave, 
And  from  its  wrath  the  mind's  frail  bark  can  save ; 
'Tis  only  He,  when  clouds  of  sorrow  lower, 
Can  say  Be  still,  omnipotent  in  power. 
Have  I  not  proved  it  so  in  days  gone  by, 
When  trial's  thickest  veil  obscured  my  sky, 
When  my  poor  tossed  and  deeply-harassed  mind 
No  place  of  rest,  no  safe  retreat  could  find, 
Except  in  Him,  who  with  unerring  might 
Changed  at  His  will  grief's  darkness  into  light, 
And  I  went  forth  rejoicing  ?     E'en  so  now 
Be  faith's  bright  impress  seen  upon  my  brow; 
And  may  that  peace  that  passeth  all  below, 
Which  can  alone  from  Heaven's  pure  fountains  flow, 
So  cheer  my  heart,  so  animate  my  breast, 
That  I  on  Him  in  confidence  may  rest  ! 
And  if  I  strive  until  my  work  is  o'er, 
Then  with  what  joy  I'll  view  yon  future  shore, 
While  praises,  heartfelt  praises,  shall  be  given 
To  Him  who  rules  on  earth  and  reigns  in  heaven. 
E* 


106  BE   GENTLEMEN  AT  HOME. 


BE   GENTLEMEN   AT   HOME. 

WHO  is  a  gentleman?  What  principles  or  practices 
constitute  the  character  of  a  man  deserving  this  term? 
Surely  it  requires  something  of  greater  depth  than  mere 
complimentary  phrases  or  foppish  grimaces  to  form  true 
dignity,  which  every  sensible  person  will  admit  is  the 
only  solid  basis  of  true  gentlemanship  ;  intelligence,  jus 
tice,  condescension,  respectful  attention,  decency,  benev 
olence,  and  forbearance  must  actuate  the  habits  of  him 
who  desires  to  be  considered  a  gentleman  in  a  public 
sphere.  If  an  observance  of  these  principles  is  so  admi 
rably  calculated  to  place  a  man  in  a  favorable  position  in 
general  society,  how  much  more  winning  would  an  obser 
vance  of  the  same  principles  be,  if  exercised  at  home  to 
wards  those  he  is  bound  by  ties  of  nature,  duty,  and  law, 
to  cherish  !  Men,  or  gentlemen,  if  such  you  fancy  your 
selves  to  be,  many  of  you  doubtless  are  insensible  of 
the  injuries  you  impose  upon  your  own  families.  When 
in  the  company  of  strangers  it  appears  an  easy  task  to 
make  yourselves  kind  and  courteous ;  you  then  can  pleas 
antly  encourage  conversation,  cheerfully  sacrifice  your 
own  inclinations  or  intentions  to  the  inclinations  of 
others,  officiously  proffer  obliging  services,  refrain  from 
profane  language  or  slovenly  habits,  contribute  liberally 
to  charitable  subscriptions,  and  silently  bear  with  expres 
sions  of  directly  opposite  character  to  your  own  senti 
ments  :  but,  alas  !  how  differently  many  of  you  behave 
when  at  home  towards  those  you  would  have  the  world 
believe  you  love!  At  home  you  (regardless  of  the  happi- 


BE    GENTLEMEN  AT  HOME,  107 

ness  or  convenience  of  her  whose  confidence  you  won  by 
assumed  acts  of  apparent  gentlemanship,  regardless  of  the 
solemn  covenant  you  made  before  God  and  man  at  the 
marriage  altar)  frequently  reject  with  impatience  kindly 
intended  offers  of  conversation,  censure  with  unbounded 
rage  inclinations  which  encroach  upon  your  own  contem 
plations,  harshly  refuse  entreated  accommodations,  in 
dulge  in  profane  language  or  slovenly  habits,  miser-like 
restrict  necessary  expenditures,  and  irritably  oppose  senti 
ments  not  congenial  with  your  own,  until  you  render 
yourselves  objects  of  mingled  scorn  and  terror  to  wives, 
children,  and  servants.  Compare  these  actions  (which, 
none  can  deny,  prevail  too  generally  in  private  life)  with 
principles  of  justice,  condescension,  respectful  attention, 
decency,  benevolence,  or  forbearance,  and  consider  how 
far  such  conduct  corresponds  with  the  required  habits  of 
gentlemen.  Be  gentlemen  at  home  if  you  would  have 
your  homes  be  attractive  to  yourselves  or  families ;  then 
wives  and  children  could  feel  encouraged  to  partici 
pate  in  your  joys  and  sorrows,  welcome  your  approach,  re 
joice  in  your  presence,  study  your  comfort,  and  pity  your 
difficulties,  whereby  home  would  be  made  to  appear  to  all 
parties  the  most  desirable  spot  on  earth.  Do  not  suppose 
politely  offering  an  arm  of  formal  attention,  or  pleasantly 
addressing  your  wives  with  Mrs.  W.  in  public  assem 
blages,  doth  in  any  degree  atone  for  neglect  and  disre 
gard  at  home,  but  remember  kindness  or  unkindness  na 
turally  produces  a  return  of  the  same,  therefore  you 
must  conduct  yourselves  in  a  respectful  manner  if  you 
desire  to  be  respected. 


io8  THE  SLUGGARD. 


THE   SLUGGARD. 

How  drear  a  sluggard's  life  must  pass, 
Unmoved  by  any  bustling  scene! 

No  pleasant  toil,  no  earnest  chase, 
Gives  change  unto  his  dull  routine. 

He  sighs,  and  rolls  upon  his. bed, 

Or  dozes  in  his  easy-chair ; 
He  folds  his  hands  and  rubs  his  head, 

And  sauntering  stands,  without  a  care. 

His  dingy  garb,  his  tardy  pace, 

His  slovenly,  neglected  cot, 
All  tell  a  tale  to  his  disgrace, — 

A  tale  the  sluggard  heedeth  not. 

His  cot,  his  purse,  his  mind,  his  all, 

Are  not  sufficient  to  excite 
Him  to  ambition's  stirring  call, 

Or  science's  instructive  light. 

Oh,  wretched  man  !  didst  thou  but  know 
The  pleasures  of  employment's  power, 

The  cheerfulness  which  from  it  flows, 
Thou  wouldst  not  idly  waste  an  hour. 

Yet  I  will  not  thy  weakness  scorn, 
But  look  with  pity  on  thy  ways, 

Thinking  thou  wast  of  parents  born 
Who  guarded  not  thy  early  days. 


PERSEVERE. 

Had  gross  neglect  in  growing  youth 
Attended  me  the  same  as  thou, 

I,  too,  might  be  a  helpless  drone, 
Too  indolent  for  service  now. 

But,  thanks  to  those  who  kindly  bent 
My  habits  toward  some  useful  care, 

Who  taught  me  noble  powers  were  lent 
To  be  improved  by  steady  wear, 

I  would  not  change  my  present  lot, 
Nor  lose  the  comfort  I  derive 

From  toiling  in  my  humble  cot, 

For  all  the  ease  that  sluggards  have. 


109 


PERSEVERE. 

BE  not  dismayed,  tried  one,  at  crosses  here, 

Though  doomed  to  part  with  joys  thy  heart  held  dear ; 

Though  dark  misfortunes  frown  upon  thy  fate, 

And  strength  depart  beneath  affliction's  weight, 

Yield  not  to  fruitless  grief  nor  hopeless  fear, 

But  look  above  and  nobly  persevere. 

Perchance  want,  labor,  care,  may  sometimes  be 
The  portion  wisely  meted  out  to  thee  ; 
Wrath,  slander,  or  revenge  may  pile  their  load 
Of  grief  and  gloom  nigh  unto  thy  abode; 
Watch  then  the  danger  of  each  rising  tear, 
And  bear  in  mind  the  language,  persevere. 

Thy  task  of  mental  labor  may  appear 
Greater  than  is  required  of  some  to  bear ; 


HO  WA  TCH  AND  PRA  Y. 

Halt  not,  though  bid  to  march  upon  a  road 
No  human  footstep  hath  before  thee  trod ; 
He  who  is  pleased  to  call  thee  will  be  near, 
Show  thee  when,  where,  and  how  to  persevere. 

In  every  change  that  doth  attend  thy  life, 

Whether  produced  by  pleasure  or  by  strife, — 

In  every  place  thy  future  lot  be  cast, 

By  will,  calling,  or  accident,  thou  hast 

One  means  within  thy  power  thy  mind  to  cheer, 

"Tis  simply  willingness  to  persevere. 

Strive  on  ;  though  prospects  wear  a  sable  shroud, 
Blue  sky  and  sunshine  lie  beyond  the  cloud, 
None  know  the  work  they  can  perform  until 
They  have  applied  their  utmost  power  and  skill ; 
No  great  attainments  mortals  covet  here 
Can  be  secured  unless  we  persevere. 


"WATCH  AND  PRAY  LEST  YE  ENTER 
INTO  TEMPTATION." 

WEAK  man,  thy  daily  actions  show 

How  great  thy  need  to  watch  and  pray, 

Lest  unaware  the  tempter  draw 
Thy  footsteps  far  from  duty's  way. 

Sickness  and  sorrow,  wrong  and  care, 

Have  often  been  thy  spirit's  load, 
A  weight  required  of  man  to  bear 

While  marching  on  life's  rugged  road. 


WATCH  AND  PRAY. 

Say,  dost  thou  patiently  endure 
The  trials  that  o'ertake  thee  here? 

Or  doth  affliction's  cloud  obscure 
Thy  spirit  with  repining  fear? 

Doth  malice  or  resentment  seek 

To  fill  thy  heart  with  wrath  and  strife 

At  injuries  a  foe  hath  sent, 

With  full  intent  to  wound  thy  life? 

Doth  pride  or  avarice  prevail 
To  lure  from  paths  of  rectitude, 

In  hours  when  weakness  doth  assail 
Thy  best  resolves  to  practice  good  ? 

If  thus  thy  tender  mind  is  tried, 
The  caution  is  to  watch  and  pray, 

Avoid  deceptive  mists  that  hide 
Temptations  lurking  in  thy  way. 

Avarice,  pride,  revenge,  and  doubt 
Are  snares  and  dangers  in  disguise, 

Proceeding  from  the  baneful  fount 
Which  Satan's  artful  power  supplies. 

Gird  up  thy  mind,  and  nobly  strive 
To  bear  the  crosses  of  thy  day ; 

Patience  and  meekness,  faith  and  hope, 
Are  found  by  those  who  watch  and  pray. 


112  GOD  IS  EVERYWHERE. 


GOD    IS    EVERYWHERE. 

IT  matters  not  where'er  thy  lot  be  cast, 
In  humble  cell  or  princely  grandeur  rare, 

Whether  thy  earthly  pilgrimage  be  passed 
In  sunny  joys  or  sorrow's  blighting  air, 

Thou  hast  assurance  God  is  everywhere, 

With  might  and  will  to  reign  supremely  there. 

Then  ne'er  presume  to  hide  thyself  from  Him, 
How'er  retired  thy  temporal  abode  ; 

How'er  secure  thy  lurking-place  may  seem 
To  be  concealed  from  others,  on  life's  road 

Naught  can  conceal  thee  from  the  sight  of  God, 

Nor  shield  thee  from  the  chastenings  of  His  rod. 

His  searching  eye  can  pierce  the  deepest  gloom, 
Scan  the  most  hidden  sins  or  woes  thou  hast, 

Discern  thy  want  of  might  to  overcome 
Dangers  produced  by  error's  cruel  blast ; 

Be  not  dismayed,  although  thy  lot  be  cast 

Remote  from  friends,  or  in  a  boundless  waste. 

'Tis  joy  to  know  in  every  place  and  hour, 
In  every  state,  in  all  thou  hast  to  bear, 

Thou  art  surrounded  by  His  arm  of  power, 
Art  guarded  by  His  ever-watchful  care; 

And,  dearest  of  all  blessings  mortals  share, 

Allowed  to  cry  to  Him  in  secret  prayer. 
10* 


WASTE  NOT  MOMENTS.  3 

'Tis  joy  to  know  He  shows  thee  right  from  wrong, 
That  of  His  works  man  is  to  Him  most  dear; 

'Tis  joy  to  know  the  spirit's  grateful  song 

And  sorrow's  burdening  sigh  doth  reach  His  ear, 

And,  through  the  pleadings  of  the  Saviour  there, 

Find  full  acceptance  with  God  everywhere. 


WASTE    NOT   MOMENTS. 

WASTE  not  moments,  they  are  precious, 
None  can  boast  another  hour  ; 

Riches,  vigor,  youth,  nor  beauty 
Ca«i  withstand  the  spoiler's  power. 

Waste  not  moments,  though  they  seem 
Like  mere  morsels  in  the  span 

Of  years  commonly  allotted 
To  the  portion  of  a  man. 

Waste  not  moments,  but  remember 

They  are  given  to  improve  ; 
They're  the  time  wherein  to  labor 

And  prepare  for  life  above. 

Waste  not  moments,  idly  thinking 

To  perform  in  time  to  come 
Tasks  belonging  to  the  present; 

To  us  the  future  may  be  gloom. 

Waste  not  moments,  those  now  vanished 

Will  return  to  us  no  more, 
Nor  afford  another  season 

To  exert  neglected  power. 


114  OUR    TWO   LITTLE  BOYS, 

Waste  not  moments,  many  warnings 
Are  presented  to  our  view  ; 

Comrades  oft  are  quickly  summoned 
From  this  mortal  state  below. 

Waste  not  moments,  each  one  bears  us 
Nearer  to  the  narrow  tomb, 

Nearer  to  eternal  portals, 

None  know  when  their  turn  will  come. 

Waste  not  moments,  that  if  shortly 
We  be  called  to  give  account 

Of  the  deeds  done  in  the  body, 

"We'll  not  fear  to  upward  mount." 


OUR  TWO   LITTLE  BOYS. 

OUR  two  little  boys  are  a  frolicsome  pair; 
From  earliest  dawn  until  evening's  cool  air 
Their  clear,  ringing  voices  are  constantly  heard, 
As  they  merrily  prance  o'er  the  grass-covered  yard, 
With  soft  azure  eyes,  brightly  beaming  with  joy, 
And  meddlesome  fingers,  our  plans  to  destroy. 
In  mischief  or  danger  their  sports  mostly  end, 
When  mother  her  rod  of  correction  doth  lend  ; 
The  sorrow  and  sobbing  her  chastening  imparts 
Soon  sink  into  peace  in  their  innocent  hearts. 
No  feelings  of  malice  in  them  ever  burn, 
But  away  to  their  play  they  quickly  return, 
Forgetful  of  aught  that  disturbed  their  delight, 
Their  little  feet  patter  from  morning  till  night. 


OUR    TWO  LITTLE  BOYS.  115 

Their  numberless  wishes,  their  questions,  their  noise, 

Displease  us  at  times  with  our  two  little  boys ; 

Yet  their  innocent  prattle  and  ignorant  views 

In  moments  of  leisure  our  feelings  amuse  ; 

We  prize  them  more  highly  than  language  can  tell, 

And  strive  to  direct  their  young  wanderings  well. 

Thrice  happy  are  ye,  little  ones,  when  compared 

With  your  parents,  whose  years  life's  trials  have  spared ; 

The  cares  of  the  morrow  disturb  not  your  rest, 

Ambition  or  pride  have  no  place  in  your  breast, 

Ye  heed  not,  ye  fear  not,  the  future's  dark  frown, 

The  present  suffices  your  wishes  to  crown. 

Roam  on,  little  boys,  and  with  gladness  pursue 

The  pleasures  belonging  to  children  like  you; 

Roam  on  unconcerned,  until  time,  strength,  thought,  each, 

Shall  your  feelings  enlarge  by  the  lessons  they  teach : 

Maturity's  weight  of  misfortunes  and  woes 

Will  fall,  ah  !  too  soon  on  your  delicate  brows, — 

Too  soon  will  the  lines  of  oppression  and  care 

Be  marked  on  your  features,  now  blooming  and  fair. 

Roam  on  while  you  can,  but  may  lessons  of  truth 

Impress  you  while  passing  the  season  of  youth  ! 

May  your  manhood,  if  such  be  granted  to  you, 

Be  adorned  by  keeping  improvement  in  view  ! 

May  you  richly  repay  with  kindness  and  care 

The  burden  your  parents  for  you  have  to  bear, 

In  watching  the  wants  of  your  infantile  years, 

And  guarding  your  habits  when  error  appears  ! 

May  wisdom  and  virtue  be  early  your  choice, 

That  your  care-worn  parents  in  age  may  rejoice, 

Beholding  the  prospect  of  heavenly  joys 

Awaiting  the  souls  of  our  two  little  boys ! 


1 1 6         ON  MY  FOR  TY-SE  VENTH  BIR  THDA  Y. 


REFLECTIONS  ON  MY  FORTY-SEVENTH 
BIRTH-DAY. 

How  rapidly  time  passes !  how  unmindful  we  are  of  its 
flight,  or  of  the  necessity  of  being  prepared  to  meet  its 
close!  While  youth,  beauty,  or  vigor  remain,  we  are  apt 
to  forget  age,  weakness,  death,  and  judgment  are  daily 
approaching  nearer  to  us.  Months  and  years  glide  away 
almost  imperceptibly,  until  on  reflecting  we  discover  the 
clock  of  life  hath  already  run  more  than  half  its  round, 
even  should  the  extraordinary  number  of  fourscore  and 
four  years  be  allotted  to  us.  So  shortsighted  is  human 
nature,  so  contented  with  sailing  on  health's  smooth  sur 
face,  so  prone  to  grasp  at  every  tempting  enjoyment  pre 
sented  within  reach,  that  many  thoughtless  beings  have 
unconsciously  reached  the  summit  of  life's  hill,  and  are 
day  by  day  descending  its  declining  slope,  without  ap 
pearing  to  perceive  their  downward  journey  is  liable  to 
be  much  shorter  and  more  difficult  than  their  ascent  was. 
The  farther  we  advance  on  life's  road,  the  more  rugged  it 
appears,  we  feel  that  cherished  joys  have  departed,  ties 
of  kindred  have  been  sundered,  health  and  strength  are 
diminished,  debility  and  dependency  are  fast  overtaking 
us,  and  treasured  recollections  of  ambition,  pride,  or 
avarice  prove  unstable  anchors  in  the  sea  of  infirmities. 
Meekness,  patience,  faith,  hope,  charity,  and  forgiveness, 
are  necessary  attainments  to  preserve  us  from  falling  into 
dangers  which  naturally  prevail  in  seasons  of  misfortune, 
affliction,  or  despondency,  unless  the  mind  is  firmly  estab 
lished  upon  the  rock  of  conscientious  piety,  which  is  the 


ON  MY  FORTY-SEVENTH  BIRTHDAY. 


117 


only  rock  sufficiently  strong  to  stand  unmoved  amidst 
tempests  of  multiplied  trials.  Another  year  of  the  time 
allotted  to  my  portion  has  flown  away,  and  a  review 
thereof  clearly  presents  omissions  and  commissions  which 
much  tarnish  the  beauty  of  its  picture.  Methinks  many 
fellow-pilgrims  might  acknowledge  the  same  unfaithfulness 
on  their  part,  would  they  carefully  ponder  their  actions 
during  that  period  of  time.  Should  this  suspicion  be  cor 
rect,  I  can  only  recommend  repentance  of  the  past,  and  an 
earnest  endeavor  to  improve  the  future,  by  devoting  the 
remainder  of  our  days  more  fully  to  the  Lord's  service  in 
whatever  manner. He  may  be  pleased  to  require.  His  grace, 
which  appeareth  unto  every  rational  mind,  convinceth  us 
beyond  a  doubt  what  His  requirings  are ;  consequently 
unfaithfulness  to  follow  its  pointings  in  all  things  is  the 
great  secret  of  much  of  the  misery  existing  among  man 
kind  in  general.  God,  according  to  His  wisdom  in  crea 
ting  us,  endowed  different  individuals  with  different  capa 
cities,  to  be  exercised  in  different  spheres.  It  matters  not 
in  what  sphere  we  are  spiritually  called  to  labor,  it  mat 
ters  not  how  trifling  or  peculiar  the  labor  within  that 
sphere  may  appear,  the  call  is  incumbent  upon  us  to  obey; 
and  the  more  willingly  we  submit  thereto,  the  more  easily 
our  task  is  performed.  Many,  far  too  many,  regard  the 
requirings  of  conscience  in  small  things  as  mere  trifles, 
unworthy  of  attention;  but  to  me  they  appear  compara 
ble  to  small  duties  in  outward  business,  which  every  skill 
ful  manager  will  admit  must  be  carefully  attended  to,  or 
matters  of  apparently  greater  importance  suffer  thereby. 
Inattention  to  small  mental  duties  is  no  less  serious  in  its 
results.  The  origin  of  slander,  malice,  resentment,  and 
divers  gross  evils  commonly  occurring  in  everyday  life, 
may  generally  be  traced  to  small  offences  or  neglect  to 
amend  offences  while  they  are  small,  and  within  our 


1 1 8          ON  MY  FOR  TY-SE  VENTH  SIR  THDA  K 

power  to  control.  A  grain  of  wheat  or  a  cent  of  money 
is  considered  by  all  a  trifling  thing;  yet  none  can  deny 
it  is  by  carefully  regarding  grains  and  cents,  that  we  in 
time  accumulate  valuable  sums  of  bushels  and  dollars ;  so 
in  like  manner,  a  faithful  adherence  to  spiritual  requirings 
in  small  things  constitutes  the  grand  basis  of  practical 
Christianity. 

WE  are  growing  old  !  do  we  feel  how  fast 

The  clock  of  life  is  running  round  ? 
Do  we  number  the  moments  as  they  pass, 

That  we  in  readiness  be  found 
To  meet  the  Bridegroom's  call,  which  may 
Be  sounded  suddenly  to-day  ? 

We  are  growing  old  !  doth  mem'ry  bear 

The  dangers  of  the  blinding  dust 
Arising  from  ambition's  luring  snare, 

Wherein  weak  souls  should  never  trust, 
Lest  unaware  we  be  betrayed 
And  salvation's  work  long  delayed? 

We  are  growing  old  !  may  each  one  prepare 

To  stand  before  the  Judge  on  high, 
While  He  our  actions,  registered  with  care, 

Reviews  with  His  all-searching  eye, 
And  hear  His  just  sentence  given 
At  the  judgment-seat  of  Heaven. 


EVENING  REFLECTIONS. 


EVENING    REFLECTIONS. 

How  pleasant  it  is,  when  the  shadows  of  night 

Steal  silently  o'er  the  vale, 
To  think  on  the  day  as  it  fades  from  our  sight, 

And  feel  satisfaction  prevail. 

When  our  task  is  performed  with  timely  success, 
And  conscience  shows  naught  to  prevent, 

Our  spirits  rejoice  in  the  freedom  and  peace 
Which  follow  devotions  well  spent. 

But,  instead  of  all  this,  when  strife  or  neglect 

Leave  traces  of  error  behind, 
Discontent  and  remorse  deprive  us  of  rest 

And  painfully  harass  the  mind. 

Why  do  we  so  often  in  folly  indulge, 

Or  lightly  the  present  employ, 
Since  hard- bought  experience  teaches  the  plan 

Whereby  we  may  win  or  lose  joy? 


120  TO  ADD  IE,   ON  HER  MARRIAGE. 


TO    ADDIE,  ON    HER   MARRIAGE. 

I  LITTLE  thought,  my  darling  one, 

When  thou  didst  quit  my  side, 
That  ere  two  years  should  roll  around, 

My  girl  would  be  a  bride. 
I  little  thought  thy  calm,  dark  eye 
So  soon  would  tempt  a  heart  to  try 
Affection's  power  to  make  secure 
That  tie  which  must  for  life  endure. 

I  little  thought  thy  name,  which  bore 

Resemblance  to  my  own, 
Would  be  exchanged  for  aught,  before 

I  heard  again  thy  tone. 
I  thought,  I  hoped,  the  time  would  come 
Thou  couldst  return  unto  thy  home : 
That  hope  has  fled,  thou  art  bound  now ; 
So  strive  to  keep  thy  marriage  vow. 

That  vow  was  breathed  before  thy  God; 

He  saw  thee  made  a  wife, 
To  honor,  cherish,  until  death, 

The  partner  of  thy  life ; 
His  lot  thou  now  art  bound  to  share, 
Whether  of  pleasure  or  of  care; 
Then,  dearest,  let  it  be  thy  pride 
To  be  to  him  a  proper  guide. 

Thy  heart  is  fond  and  tender  now, 
Bright  seem  youth's  golden  hours ; 


TO  AD  DIE,  ON  HER  MARRIAGE.  T2j 

But  time  and  care  thy  form  will  bow, 

And  wither  beauty's  flowers; 
Mayest  thou  in  age  prove  constant  still 
Thy  marriage  promise  to  fulfil ; 
Though  crosses  shade  thy  placid  brow, 
Be  faithful,  loving,  then,  as  now. 

And  may  thy  partner  prove  to  be 

A  kind  deserving  friend; 
Ready,  when  trials  fall  on  thee, 

His  sympathy  to  lend  ; 
That  as  you  each  advance  in  years 
One  may  share  in  the  other's  tears ; 
Binding  more  firm,  through  sun  and  shade, 
Kindred  attachments  early  made. 

Thus  thy  marriage  on  earth  may  be 

An  emblem  of  the  joy 
Thy  union  with  sainted  ones 

Shall  yield  without  alloy; 
When  thy  short  pilgrimage  is  past, 
And  thee  the  Saviour  owns  at  last, 
To  be  His  spouse  through  endless  days, 
And  sing  around  the  throne  His  praise. 


ii 


122  ON  RAISING    THE  NATIONAL   FLAG. 


THE  two  following  poems  were  addressed  to  a  few  pri 
vate  individuals  who  raised  the  national  flag  on  their  own 
premises  during  the  late  rebellion. 

YES,  for  the  flag  of  stars  and  stripes 

Our  fathers  bled  and  died  ; 
And  scourged  every  man  should  be 

Who  puts  that  flag  aside. 

Our  fathers  braved  both  heat  and  cold, 

They  labored  night  and  day, 
To  quell  the  foe  who  strove  to  hold 

Our  men  beneath  their  sway  ? 

Our  fathers'  blood  our  freedom  bought ; 

And  who  would  dare  destroy 
The  flag  which  waved  above  their  heads, 

And  never  knew  alloy  ? 

Secession's  bane,  palmetto  bush, 

With  serpent  coiled  around, 
Can  have  no  place  upon  the  soil 

Of  Union's  happy  ground. 

Then  let  the  flag  of  stars  and  stripes 

Long  o'er  our  country  wave ; 
And  every  heart  defend  the  rights 

Our  fathers  fought  to  save. 


ON  RAISING    THE   NATIONAL   FLAG. 

Let  every  son  unite  and  join 

Our  heroes  brave  and  true, 
In  helping  them  their  rights  defend 

And  save  our  banners  too. 

From  East  and  West,  from  North  and  South, 

We  hear  some  brothers  call ; 
And  echo  back  from  every  heart 

This  Union  must  not  fall. 


123 


THE  stars  and  the  stripes  of  our  banner 
Our  country's  proud  liberty  tell; 

Which  was  bought  with  the  toil  of  our  fathers 
And  blood  of  our  heroes  who  fell. 

Let  youth  learn  our  nation's  sad  story, 

Our  patriots'  valor  and  zeal ; 
When  with  hearts  full  of  Union  glory 

They  strove  their  opponents  to  quell ; 

When  mothers  and  daughters  united 

Invented  a  wise  saving  plan 
Of  yielding  their  country  assistance, 

Encouraging  every  brave  man. 

Thus  the  work  of  this  new-hoisted  banner 
Our  ladies'  warm  wishes  portray ; 

May  it  stir  up  the  minds  of  their  sisters 
To  join  in  the  cause  of  the  day. 


124 


To  arrest  the  bane  tide  of  secession, 

Society's  ruin  and  shame  ; 
And  hold  with  unflinching  possession 

Our  long-loved  banner  of  fame, 

Which  waved  o'er  the  heads  of  our  fathers 
While  striving  their  freedom  to  gain, 

That  they  might  establish  a  Union, — 
A  Union  their  sons  should  sustain. 

Then  up  with  the  star-spangled  banner, 
Our  badge  which  all  nations  do  own, 

And  defend  with  all  firmness  the  virtue 
That  governs  our  Union  throne. 


OH,  DOES  HE  EVER  THINK  OF  ME? 

OH,  does  he  ever  think  of  me 

Who  watched  beside  his  cradle  bed, 
And  on  my  slender  arm  and  knee 

Nursed  carefully  his  infant  head? 
He  can't  deny  I  was  the  one 

He  oft  preferred  in  riper  hours, 
To  linger  near  with  cheerful  tone 

When  sickness  had  reduced  his  powers. 

Does  he,  the  youngest  of  our  group, 
To  whom  my  heart  so  closely  clung 

Without  a  shadow  of  distrust, 

In  days  when  he  and  I  were  young, 


OH,  DOES  HE  EVER    THINK  OF  ME?         125 

E'er  cast  an  anxious  wish  or  sigh 
Toward  me,  now  in  declining  years, 

Who  once  exerted  every  power 
To  be  his  friend  in  joy  and  tears  ? 

Has  he  forgotten  all  my  toil, 

While  the  first  dear  one  of  his  choice 
Long  languished  on  a  bed  of  pain 

Ere  she  was  called  by  death's  stern  voice? 
He  surely  knows,  would  he  recall, 

The  many  efforts  which  I  made 
To  smooth  the  roughness  of  his  path 

When  she  he  loved  had  from  him  fled. 

Oh,  can  it  be  !  must  I  believe 

He  wholly  disregards  me  now? 
That  I'll  no  more  with  joy  perceive 

Kind  approbation  on  his  brow  ? 
Must  I  throughout  remaining  years 

The  object  of  his  censure  be, 
Because  events  of  mottled  spheres 

Were  oft  accepted  wrongfully  ? 

And  shall  it  be,  no  favored  breeze 

Will  ever  o'er  our  spirits  shed 
Its  softening  influence  of  peace, 

To  clear  the  mist  by  error  spread  ? 
If  so,  or  even  ruder  blasts 

Assail  my  future  destiny, 
Affection  still  will  fondly  ask, 

"  Oh,  does  he  ever  think  of  me?" 


ir 


126  BLESSINGS. 


BLESSINGS. 

WHEN  musing  in  a  silent  season 

On  blessings  which  had  my  portion  crowned, 
I  strove  to  think  which  one  I'd  reason 

To  feel  most  thankful  for  having  found. 

The  task  was  great  to  aim  at  solving 
The  best  or  least  of  the  gifts  of  God ; 

All  seemed  important,  whether  offered 
In  pleasing  shape  or  in  chastening  mode. 

The  name  and  form  of  blessings  differ, 
Yet  each  is  needful  while  we  toil  here ; 

Each  adds  a  link  to  our  chain  of  comfort, 
Lights  paths  that  would  otherwise  be  drear. 

Although  our  nature  requires  raiment, 

Food,  and  rest  to  cherish  mortal  strength, 

Did  pleasures  fill  our  cup  with  favors 
We'd  fail  to  win  endless  joys  at  length. 

Therefore  blessings  consist  not  merely 
In  stores  of  plenty,  delight,  or  ease ; 

Sickness,  bereavement,  care,  and  sorrow, 
All  kindly  serve  to  lead  us  tqjpeace. 

Thus  faith  would  own  at  times  the  mercy 
Of  Thy  interposing  hand,  dear  Lord  ; 

But  feeble  nature  is  rebellious, 

And  feels  Thy  all-wise  corrections  hard. 


BLESSINGS.  127 

The  flinty  soil,  within  the  narrow 

Path  which  Thou  requires!  us  to  tread, 

To  human  feelings  is  annoying 

Until  Thy  grace  shows  us  what  we  need. 

Yet,  weak  and  erring  as  my  spirit 

By  nature  seems  inclined  to  be, 
The  softening  intents  of  Thy  dealings 

I  trust  are  not  wholly  lost  on  me. 

Thou  sawest  meet  mine  eyes  to  darken, 
To  make  drear  the  sphere  wherein  I  move, 

To  wither  life's  endearing  prospect 

Of  kindred,  companionship,  and  love ; 

Thou  sawest  meet  to  send  these  trials, 
As  needed  blessings  in  kind  disguise ; 

To  guard  me  from  the  snares  of  Satan 
Woven  unseen  in  earth's  luring  ties. 

I  thank  Thee,  Father,  for  regarding 

Me  worthy  of  Thy  preserving  care ; 
Worthy  of  being  taught  the  hidden 

Mysteries  Thy  chosen  children  share. 

But  dearest  far  of  all  the  blessings 

Thou  hast  been  pleased  to  .confer  on  me, 

Is  strength  of  mind  to  bear  in  calmness 

Each  chastening  stroke  which  descends  from  Thee. 

For  this  I  thank  Thee,  Holy  Parent, 

Above  all  other  blessings  given  ; 
It  reconciles  me  to  affliction 

While  toiling  to  win  rest  in  heaven. 


128  A   DIALOGUE. 


A    DIALOGUE. 

FATHER. 

MY  son,  I  can't  imagine  where 
You  have  so  early  learned  to  swear ; 
I  cannot  think  whoe'er  you  heard 
Express  a  vulgar,  profane  word  ; 
Your  precious  mother  doth,  I  know, 
Guard  well  her  lips,  lest  aught  should  flow 
That  would  her  dignity  disgrace 
Or  rob  her  conscience  of  its  peace. 
You  always  have  been  kept  at  home, 
Not  e'en  to  school  allowed  to  roam. 
You  have  no  playmates  known  to  use 
Such  oaths  as  you  so  often  choose  ; 
I'm  grieved  to  think  my  darling  boy, 
Scarce  six  years  old,  should  thus  employ 
His  little  tongue  in  naughty  ways, 
Not  minding  what  his  father  says ; 
I  love  you  dearly,  but  must  do 
My  duty  by  correcting  you ; 
So,,  mind,  I'll  punish  you  severe 
The  next  time  I  know  you  to  swear. 

CHILD. 

Father,  I  do  remember  well 
You  told  me  not  to  lie  and  steal, 
Nor  ever  drink  a  drop  of  rum 
Or  I  a  drunkard  might  become  j 


A   DIALOGUE. 

But  let  me  tell  you,  father  dear, 
You  never  told  me  not  to  swear  ; 
And  even  now  I  do  not  know 
Why  you  should  scold  your  darling  so, 
Since  all  the  naughty  words  I  say 
You  speak  before  me  every  day. 
You  know  you  often  storm  and  swear, 
And  tell  mamma  you  do  not  care ; 
When  she  attempts  to  kindly  warn, 
Her  cautions  you  receive  with  scorn. 
You  told  me,  too,  the  Good  Man  sees 
Your  little  boy,  hide  where  I  please, 
That  every  act  and  every  word 
I  speak  is  by  the  Good  Man  heard ; 
That  He  will  punish  naughty  boys 
And  shut  them  out  from  all  His  joys. 
But,  father,  does  it  not  seem  queer, 
When  the  Good  Man  is  always  near 
To  see  what  little  children  do, 
That  He  don't  see  big  men  like  you, 
Or  punish  big  men  when  they  swear 
And  act  as  if  He  was  not  near? 

FATHER. 

My  son,  you  almost  make  me  blush, 
Your  pleadings  to  my  conscience  rush, 
Arousing  feelings  in  my  heart 
I  would  should  ne'er  from  me  depart. 
I  know,  dear  boy,  on  taking  thought, 
I  need  the  lesson  you  have  taught. 
I  know  I  often  storm  and  swear, 
Regardless  of  God's  being  near. 
Although  I'm  tall,  He  doth  survey 
All  that  I  do  and  all  I  say ; 


129 


I3o 


A  DIALOGUE. 

His  judgment-book  contains  within 
A  strict  account  of  each  one's  sin. 
I  feel  assured  'tis  written  there 
The  number  of  the  oaths  I  swear. 
Methinks  I  feel  persuaded,  too, 
I  am  accountable  for  you ; 
But  do  not  see  what  course  to  take 
More  safe  or  prudent  than  to  make 
New  covenant  with  God,  to  try 
To  set  example  to  my  boy, 
That  will  incline  his  youthful  heart 
Wisely  to  choose  the  better  part, 
Which  doth  preserve  from  every  snare 
Tempting  man's  evil  tongue  to  swear. 

CHILD. 

Father,  I've  one  thing  more  to  say: 
Mamma  has  told  me  I  must  pray ; 
Must  ask  the  Good  Man  to  forgive 
My  naughty  tricks,  and  make  me  live 
The  way  He  likes  good  folks  to  do, 
That  I  may  learn  to  be  good  too. 
But,  father,  since  the  Good  Man  knows 
All  big  men  do,  as  well  as  boys, 
Should  you  not  try  to  learn  to  pray, 
That  you  no  more  bad  words  will  say? 

FATHER. 

My  child,  I  know  we  all  do  need 
The  help  of  God,  His  will  to  heed  ; 
I  know  we  all  have  need  to  pray 
For  strength  to  shun  the  sinner's  way. 
We  are  by  nature  prone  to  wrong, 
This  weakness  doth  to  each  belong ; 


THE    OLD   YEAR.  j 

And  naught  but  grace,  through  faith,  can  make 

Us  strong  and  willing  to  forsake 

Our  evil  ways,  or  rightly  bear 

Our  cross  against  the  tempter's  snare. 

May  you  and  I  strive  to  obey 

What  our  kind  friends  shall  to  us  say, 

Nor  think  at  heart  we  do  not  care 

When  we  are  shown  some  cross  to  bear ! 


THE    OLD    YEAR. 

FAREWELL,  old  year,  thy  remaining  moments  are  num 
bered,  thy  last  sun  has  set :  a  few  more  fleeting  hours,  and 
thou  wilt  be  hurled  from  existence  forever.  Thy  depart 
ure  is  accompanied  by  a  stormy  atmosphere,  the  gloom 
of  which  is  calculated  to  recall  the  mottled  train  of  afflic 
tions,  sorrows,  toils,  and  cares  which  pressed  with  in 
creased  weight  upon  many  a  toil-worn  spirit  during  thy 
circumvolution.  Thy  expiring  flight  wafts  not  from  the 
mind  painful  recollections  of  omissions  and  commissions 
which  much  darken  the  pages  of  thy  record.  Every  day 
of  thy  progression  has  been  masked  with  important 
events.  Every  day  made  some  hearts  happy,  and  others 
sad.  Thousands  of  human  beings  feel  this  year  has  been 
an  eventful  era  in  their  experience.  Many  ambitious 
persons  have  joyfully  realized  success  in  attainments  for 
which  they  formerly  labored  in  vain.  Many  noble  char 
acters  have  fallen  from  the  high  tower  of  rectitude  into 
an  appalling  abyss  of  error  and  disgrace  by  yielding  to 
temptation  and  weakness.  Many  fond  hearts  have  been 
plunged  into  despair  by  the  crushing  torture  of  wrath  or 


132  THE    OLD    YEAR. 

neglect.  Many  happy  families  have  been  driven  from 
long-enjoyed  prosperity  to  the  narrow  confines  of  want 
by  unexpected  gales  of  misfortune.  Many  strong,  active 
forms  have  been  enfeebled  by  the  uncontrollable  power 
of  disease  or  accident.  Many  cheerful  homes  have  been 
made  desolate  by  the  remorseless  hand  of  death ;  while 
many  others  have  been  permitted  to  escape  serious 
interruptions  upon  that  portion  of  their  voyage  through 
life,  and  bask  a  little  longer  in  the  pleasant  sunshine  of 
ease,  health,  and  prosperity.  Old  year,  thou  hast  com 
pleted  a  variety--of  changes  which  were  commenced  by 
thy  predecessor,  and  art  leaving  as  great  a  variety  of  thy 
own  begetting  to  be  completed  by  thy  successor.  Thou 
hast  brought  every  individual,  who  survived  the  motions 
of  thy  revolve,  one  year's  march  nearer  the  portals  of 
judgment  and  eternity;  none  have  been  able  to  turn 
their  sail  up  the  course  of  thy  current,  nor  withstand  the 
perpetually  downward  bearing  of  thy  rapidly  vanishing 
moments;  but  on  numerous  heads  where  beautiful,  sable, 
or  golden  locks  were  seen  at  the  beginning  of  thy  career, 
gray  hairs  now  appear  in  abundance,  showing  how  irre 
sistible  is  the  power  of  time.  Thy  closing  scene  seems  to 
impart  a  solemn  and  instructive  lesson  to  man,  warning 
us  to  remember  human  life  is,  comparably  to  the  departing 
year,  a  period  of  short  continuance,  which,  according  to 
the  orderings  of  nature,  must  soon  cease  to  exist,  and  give 
place  to  succeeding  generations. 


SAD  REFLECTIONS. 


133 


SAD    REFLECTIONS 

AH,  memory  tells  almost  ten  years 
Of  mingled  pleasure,  care,  and  gloom 

Have  fled  since  wounded  nature's  tears 
Were  shed  around  our  mother's  tomb. 

Almost  ten  years  since  she  who  strove 
So  earnestly  to  smooth  my  way, 

By  acts  of  sympathy  and  love, 

Was  called,  I  trust,  to  endless  day. 

But,  oh,  the  changes  I  have  known 

While  these  ten  years  rolled  slow  away ! 

Joys  have  departed,  sorrows  grown, 

And  brightest  locks  exchanged  for  gray. 

Friends  and  kindred  have  been  sundered 
By  dark  misfortune's  chilling  tide, 

Pain  and  death  have  swept  forever 
A  faithful  father  from  my  side. 

The  pleasant  homestead  which  he  strove 

By  honest  labor  to  acquire, 
Alas,  no  longer  claims  my  love, 

Its  beauties  strangers  now  admire. 

More  distant  friends,  with  whom  we  once 
Were  wont  to  wander  hand  in  hand, 

Have  also  left  us  here  to  grope 
Our  journey  to  the  spirit-land. 
12 


I34  BE   YE  ALSO   READY. 

Though  dark  the  picture  fancy  draws 
Of  cherished  scenes  in  by-gone  days, 

The  picture  of  the  next  ten  years, 

When  drawn,  may  have  no  brighter  rays. 

Our  parents'  pilgrimage  is  o'er, 

We  children  yet  must  tread  the  road 

Their  weary  footsteps  trod  before, 
Amid  events  of  ill  and  good. 

The  next  sad  breach  death's  icy  touch 
Shall  make  within  our  household  band 

Must  be  among  the  younger  group 
Our  smitten  parents  left  behind. 

None  of  us  know  whose  mental  ear 
Will  first  receive  the  final  call, 

The  youngest  or  the  strongest  may 
Stand  first  before  the  Judge  of  all. 


BE    YE    ALSO    READY. 

BE  ye  also  ready,  for  in  an  hour 

When  least  expected  the  Son  of  Man 

May  suddenly  summon  your  souls  before 
The  great  Judge's  majesty  to  stand, 

And  listen  to  His  record,  just  and  true, 

Of  deeds  done  in  the  body  here  below. 

Be  ye  also  ready,  seeing  how  oft 

The  youth  from  death's  grasp  we  cannot  save, 


TO  KATIE. 

How  oft  strong  forms,  on  active  service  bent, 

Fall  unconscious  victims  to  the  grave, 
Without  one  moment's  warning  to  prepare 
To  meet  the  mighty  Lord  of  spirits  there. 

Be  ye  also  ready,  while  time  and  sense 

Are  kindly  extended  unto  you, 
While  inward  teachings  of  redeeming  grace 

Are  clearly  presented  to  your  view, 
Enlightening  the  spirit's  short-sighted  eye 
To  discern  and  'scape  dangers  lurking  nigh. 

Be  ye  also  ready,  that  no  alarm 

Shall  seize  your  minds  at  that  solemn  hour, 
Whether  the  call  be  heard  at  night  or  morn, 

In  health,  or  under  declining  power, 
But  with  calmness  hope  to  receive  the  word, 
"  Enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord." 


135 


TO    KATIE. 

DEAREST  Katie,  mother  left  thee, 

To  journey  far  away, 
Not  intending  to  neglect  thee 

By  her  much  lengthened  stay. 

Older  kindred,  dear  by  nature, 
Friends  of  her  early  years, 

Held  a  place  in  her  affection 
Through  later  joys  and  tears. 


136  TO   KATIE. 

'Twas  for  them  she  left  thee,  darling, 

But  only  for  awhile, 
To  see  her  aged  father's  features 

And  sister's  welcome  smile. 

Oft  she  thought,  while  pressing  forward, 

Of  those  she  left  behind, 
And  Katie's  pranks  of  innocence 

Rushed  to  thy  mother's  mind. 

Chide  her  not  for  having  tarried 
Long  from  her  youngest  one, 

Though  thee  missed  her  fond  caresses 
And  her  familiar  tone. 

She  little  thought  thy  last  sickness 
Would  seize  thy  tender  frame, 

Ere  she  could  return  and  proudly 
Hear  thee  lisp  thy  mother's  name. 

But,  ah  !  her  fond  hopes  were  blasted 
When  home  she  did  approach, — 

Her  youngest  one  lay  prostrated 
Upon  a  fevered  couch. 

It  was  painful  to  her  feelings 

To  meet  her  darling  so, 
And  with  every  art  she  labored 

To  check  the  spoiler's  blow. 

'Twas  vain,  all  her  prayers  and  efforts 
To  rescue  thee  from  death 

Merely  lightened  the  agonies 
Of  thy  expiring  breath. 


TO  KATIE. 

Was  it  thy  wish  to  leave  mother? 

Was  thy  fate  hard  below  ? 
Hark  !  to  these  questions,  I  fancy, 

Sweet  Katie  answers,  No. 

There  is  One  who  sees  the  dangers 

Awaiting  children  here, 
And  in  love  is  pleased  to  bear  them 

Away  from  pain  and  care. 

He  it  was  who  early  called  thee 
From  thy  dear  mother's  breast, 

To  be  safe  with  Him  in  glory 
And  with  thy  brother  rest. 

He  was  also  called  before  thet 
To  quit  the  scenes  of  time, 

Ere  his  little  feet  had  trodden 
The  paths  of  woe  and  crime. 

He  was  there  to  greet  his  sister 

Within  that  blest  abode, 
And  with  the  ransomed  family 

Sing  endless  praise  to  God. 

May  your  guileless  spirits  hover 
Around  your  parents'  way, 

And  oft  cause  them  to  remember 
You're  happier  far  than  they  ! 

Cause  them  to  rejoice  in  knowing 
Their  children  are  at  peace, 

And  the  number  of  their  kindred 
In  heaven  is  increased. 
12* 


137 


138  WINTER. 


WINTER. 

STERN  winter,  thy  rigorous  frowns 

Chase  beautiful  sights  from  our  view, 
Landscapes  exchange  their  verdant  crowns 

For  those  of  perished  nature's  hue. 
The  leafless  forests  groan  and  sigh 

Beneath  the  pressure  of  thy  breath, 
The  feathered  songsters  swiftly  fly 

Before  thy  chilling  threat  of  death. 

Thy  frigid  movements  overspread 

Earth's  fair  aspect  with  blight  and  gloom, 
Insects  and  plants  are  harshly  led 

To  slumber  torpid  in  thy  tomb. 
Though  grim  and  drear  the  scenes  which  show 

The  weight  of  thy  remorseless  tread, 
My  fancy  pictures  pleasure's  glow 

Amidst  the  gloom  thy  actions  shed. 

Thy  showers  of  sleet  which  crystallize 

The  bending  bough  and  slender  vine, 
Sparkling  beneath  bright  starlight  skies 

Like  pearls  within  the  ocean's  brine, 
Give  beauty  to  the  faded  scene 

Thy  dreaded  presence  casts  around, 
While  groups  of  merry  forms  are  found 

In  frolic  o'er  the  snow-clad  ground. 

The  sleigh-bells  jingle  at  the  door, 
Foretelling  pleasant  friends  are  near, 

To  share  with  us  the  pleasant  hour 
While  resting  from  the  summer's  care. 


CONSOLATORY  MUSINGS. 

In  social  mirth  or  converse  sweet 
Thy  long  evenings  are  whiled  away, 

Comrades  around  the  fireside  meet, 
Released  from  tumults  of  the  day. 

The  peaceful  slumbers  of  the  night 

Hushed  from  the  ear  thy  winds'  rough  tone, 
While  stormy  elements  without 

In  hoarse,  unheeded  accents  moan. 
Such  are  the  joys  thy  season  brings 

To  homes  where  plenty  lends  her  hand, 
Where  peace  her  gentle  mantle  flings 

Upon  the  household's  happy  band. 

But  widely  different  the  fate 

Of  those  where  want  or  discord  reigns  : 
On  them  thy  snow-flakes  fall  with  weight, 

To  them  thy  evenings  are  but  pain. 
The  morning's  light,  the  warm  sun's  ray, 

Are  most  that  cheer  their  luckless  cells 
During  the  rigor  of  thy  sway, 

Of  which  their  grievous  record  tells. 


139 


CONSOLATORY    MUSINGS. 

AH,  be  not  anxious  to  pursue 

The  trifles  of  a  day ; 
The  sweetest  joys  of  earth  are  doomed 

To  quickly  pass  away. 


1 40  CONSOLA  TOR  Y  MUSINGS, 

But  if  we  in  our  God  confide 

And  seek  His  constant  care, 
Though  trials  reign  on  every  side, 

He'll  guard  us  from  despair. 

Though  eyes  may  shed  their  blinding  tears 

And  hearts  oft  raise  a  sigh, 
He'll  kindly  heed  these  humble  prayers, 

These  tears  of  sorrow  dry. 

He'll  ever  prove  a  faithful  friend 
When  pain  or  grief  prevails ; 

On  Him  we  safely  may  depend, 
His  mercies  never  fail. 

He's  ever  ready  to  fulfill 

Each  promise  to  the  soul, 
Of  those  who  truly  seek  His  will 

And  are  at  His  control. 

Then  prostrate  at  the  throne  of  grace 

Our  souls  in  earnest  prayer, 
And  ask  for  strength  to  keep  our  place 

When  Satan's  arrows  dare. 

We  need  the  strength  that  maketh  strong 

To  follow  His  command, 
To  keep  resolves  which  cannot  long 

Temptation's  power  withstand. 

Though  peaceful  thoughts  at  times  prevail, 
(Submission's  sweet  reward,) 

Like  things  of  earth,  our  minds  are  frail, 
Unsettled  in  the  Lord. 


SECRET  COMFORT.  141 

I  OFT  observe  in  hours  of  trial, 

When  comfort  threatens  to  depart, 
Impatience  meets  a  firm  denial 

If  Jesus  rules  within  my  heart. 

His  peaceful  presence  prompts  my  spirit 
To  choose  the  path  He  would  approve, 

He  cheers  my  prospect  of  the  future 
With  gentle  promises  of  love. 

Cheerful  forgiveness  toward  the  erring 

E'en  while  I  journey  here  below, 
Endurance,  faith,  and  hope  He  granteth, 

To  light  and  smooth  my  pathway  through. 

He  sees  me  weary,  heavy  laden, 

Bids  me  on  Him  my  burden  cast, 
Renews  my  strength  to  trust  His  mercy, 

In  hope  of  rest  through  Him  at  last. 

Soul,  'tis  by  far  a  greater  favor 

Than  all  the  joys  that  earth  afford, 
To  hold  communion  with  the  Saviour, 

To  feel  supported  by  the  Lord. 


SECRET    COMFORT. 

WHILE  doomed  to  sojourn  'midst  the  scenes  of  time 
We  meet  with  much  that  doth  obscure  the  mind ; 
Much  that  is  to  our  nature  hard  to  bear 
And  tends  to  drag  our  spirits  to  despair. 
Yet  'midst  earth's  ills  there  is  a  comfort  sure 
Which  doth  through  every  change  in  life  endure : 


142  NEVER  SAFE. 

"Pis  grace,  convincing  us  there's  One  who  knows 

How  sharp  the  sting  of  our  most  secret  woes, 

How  prone  we  are  in  trial's  gloomy  hour 

To  yield  unconscious  to  the  tempter's  power, 

To  sink  in  dark  despondency  and  fear, 

Unmindful  of  our  Helper  being  near, 

Whose  might  and  will  doth  in  His  way  and  time 

Grant  strength,  through  faith,  life's  rugged  hill  to  climb, 

Strength  to  believe  His  promises  are  true 

And  all  our  wants  lie  open  to  His  view. 

By  grace  He  breaks  the  sinner's  stony  heart, 

Shows  him  wherein  he  acts  the  erring  part, 

Shows  him  his  need  of  coming  unto  God, 

And  offers  pardon  through  the  Saviour's  blood ; 

By  grace  He  whispers  to  the  mournful  where 

They  may  their  griefs  assuage  through  faith  and  prayer ; 

By  grace  He  points  the  path  we  should  pursue, 

Renews  our  strength  appointed  work  to  do ; 

To  meekly  bear  all  that  besets  our  way 

And  wait  in  patience  His  own  chosen  day 

Of  kind  deliverance  from  mortal  gloom, 

To  bask  in  joys  which  lie  beyond  the  tomb. 

What  more  could  helpless  beings  ask  than  this  ? — 

Support  while  here,  and  guidance  into  bliss. 

Then,  soul,  be  thankful  for  the  blessings  given, 

Nor  murmur  on  thy  toilsome  course  to  heaven. 


NEVER    SAFE. 


WHILE  earnestly   endeavoring  to  accomplish  a  piece 
of  fancy  knitting,  the  order  of  which  had  to  be  accurately 


NEVER   SAFE. 


143 


sustained, — or  the  figure  designed  to  be  represented  be 
came  deranged, — I,  on  examination,  when  apparently 
near  the  close  of  the  task,  discovered  a  mistake  had  been 
made,  which  could  not  be  rectified  by  any  other  means 
than  by  taking  out  the  work  a  sufficient  distance  to  re 
move  the  defect,  on  which  account  I  sadly  murmured, 
Never  safe  until  entirely  completed  !  The  weight  of  the 
expression  instantly  touched  my  heart,  clearly  developing 
to  my  understanding  the  resemblance  that  work  bore  to 
my  own  mental  state.  I  sensibly  felt  the  language,  Never 
safe  !  might  be  applied  in  a  spiritual  sense  to  mankind  in 
general.  In  every  place,  in  every  state,  and  at  every 
rational  period  of  life,  these  instructive  words  appeared 
peculiarly  applicable. 

Every  reflecting  mind  will  admit  we  are  never  safe  from 
the  snares  of  Satan  until  our  earthly  career  is  entirely  com 
pleted.  So  irresolute  is  human  nature,  so  prone  to  indulge 
our  innate  propensities,  however  evil  in  their  character, 
that  we  are  constantly  in  danger  of  committing  mistakes, 
by  thought,  word,  or  deed,  which  much  deface  the  beau 
tiful  order  of  true  Christianity,  and  are  mistakes  which 
cannot  be  rectified  by  any  other  means  than  by  retracing 
our  course,  and  with  renewed  attention  avoiding  commis 
sion  of  similar  mistakes  in  future.  The  enemy  of  our 
soul's  peace  is  aware,  and  ever  ready  to  take  advantage  of 
our  weakness  by  presenting  apparently  reasonable  sugges 
tions,  more  congenial  to  our  erring,  finite  natures  than  the 
rebuking  voice  of  wisdom ;  therefore  we  are  never  safe  in 
advancing  with  our  spiritual  work  without  frequently 
pausing  to  review  past  actions,  that  we  may  clearly  per 
ceive  in  what  particular  point  we  erred.  In  youth,  mid- 
life,  or  old  age  this  care  is  absolutely  necessary,  as  we  are 
at  all  times  liable  to  indulge  in  occasional  passions  of 
levity,  pride,  avarice,  jealousy,  wrath,  strife,  malice,  re- 


144 


NEVER  SAFE. 


sentment,  fretfulness,  murmuring,  or  repining,  all  of 
which,  though  small  by  name,  are  great  mistakes  in  the 
course  of  every-day  life,  and  will  assuredly  be  recorded 
as  such  against  us  in  the  judgment-book  on  high. 
Many  death-bed  scenes  furnish  confirming  evidence  of  our 
never  being  safe,  as  it  is  not  uncommon  on  such  occasions 
to  see  the  sinking  sufferer  tempted,  even  until  his  latest 
hour,  with  apprehensive  doubts  and  reasonings  of  the 
mercy  of  our  heavenly  Father  toward  His  creature  man  ; 
it  is  not  uncommon  to  see  him  tried  in  this  manner  to  an 
extent  that  renders  his  enfeebled  powers  almost  incapable 
of  discerning  one  gleam  of  faith  by  which  he  can  hope 
to  hold  his  head  above  the  heaving  billows  of  Jordan, 
whose  frightful  roar  is  every  moment  sounding,  Never 
ready !  to  waft  his  spirit  into  untried  eternity. 

PILGRIM,  canst  thou  find  one  spot 

In  all  this  world  below, 
Where  temptations  enter  not 

Nor  streams  of  danger  flow  ? 
Canst  thou  find  one  hiding-place 
Safe  from  Satan's  luring  face? 
Methinks  thou  dost  answer,  no  ; 
Safety  is  not  found  below. 

Pilgrim,  dost  thou  look  above 

For  strength  in  danger's  hour? 
There  alone  doth  perfect  love 

Reign  with  availing  power. 
On  the  throne  the  Lamb  of  God 
Ever  pleads  His  dying  blood, 
Erring  mortals  to  redeem  : 
For  thy  safety  trust  in  Him. 

THE    END. 


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